Harry Potter and the Darkness of a Soulless Husk
by Watergirl7742
Summary: Harry Potter x DNAngel Crossover. Harry, Ron, and Hermione continue searching for the Horcruxes that will be Voldemort's ruin. Dark and a mysterious teenaged American Auror take over the empty teaching posts at Hogwarts. Things are about to get insane!
1. Preview to the Final Ordeal

"Will you consider my proposal?"

"That depends, Headmistress lady."

Minerva McGonagall sat in the headmaster/headmistress chair, leaning forward with her fingers interlocked on her desk.

"Sir, your experience with Dark magic will be ideal to influence Hogwarts students against it. This previous year our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher murdered our previous headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and fled immediately afterwards. We need someone to fill his post."

"I'll think about it, but this means I've gotta pick up my job in Japan and bring it here to England," said the teaching applicant.

"On no account are you to continue that job within the confines of this castle."

"All right, already. Just tell me who this brat is I gotta help stop Voldy-thingy."

"He is the only person to ever survive You-Know-Who's Killing Curse, and he was only a year old at the time. His name…is Harry Potter."

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE—PUT THAT INFERNAL STRIP OF WOOD OUT OF MY SIGHT THIS INSTANT!"

A portly man with a bushy mustache bellowed at a scrawny, black-haired, green-eyed boy who was brandishing a wand at the obstacle that was his uncle.  
"What're you going to do, _Vernon_?" the boy sneered in anger as he dragged his trunk down the stairs. "I'm of age, now, so I can do any magic I want outside school. I could turn you into a pig if I wanted to, not that there's much of a difference."

Vernon Dursley began turning a fine shade of puce, yet he didn't dare attack a wizard, for that was what his nephew, Harry Potter, was.

Anger at Snivellus Snape and Draco Malfoy had worked its way out of him and onto the mirror in his wardrobe, the wood of his bedside table, and three panes in his window. If he wasn't careful it would soon work its way onto his uncle, aunt, and cousin.

A sudden pounding on the front door interrupted their row. Harry's aunt, Petunia Dursley, scurried forward to answer the door and invite in their unexpected visitor.

A young, handsome man with a furry creature of some sort on his shoulder stood framed in the doorway. He donned all black, and his dark purple hair hung close to his shoulders with a few strands down past his neck. His dark eyes accented his tan skin in the dying sunlight.

"Hey, are you guys the Dursleys?" the man asked.

"A friend of yours, Dudley?" Petunia inquired of his son.

"Yeah, right, like I would be caught _dead_ with porky loser like _that_."

The accent and dialect with which he spoke was unfamiliar with the disputing family. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley glared at the stranger with suspicion.

"Who are you?" Vernon attempted to politely inquire him, but his annoyance stuck out very obviously.

"Don't tell me you tea-drinking stiffs haven't _heard_ of me? Seen my police profile on the news?" the man asked them with annoyed disappointment. Unexpectedly, the guest closed his eyes and smiled, pressing his right pointer and middle fingers to his temple. Suddenly a swirl of black fumes surrounded the man. When they dissipated a young-looking teenager with wild, red hair and big, cute eyes stood in his place. The furry creature had not changed, but it was now smiling and grooming itself.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. May I come in?" the boy asked with a cute, nervous smile, reaching behind his head to scratch it, closing his eyes.

Without waiting for an answer he strolled indoors, stroking the animal on his shoulder.

After a minutes silence, Uncle Vernon rounded on Harry once again.

"Enough effing w—"

"_Vernon_, the _door's_ open," Petunia interrupted him.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, but, uh, I think we arrived just in time," the boy apologized, glancing between aunt, uncle, son, and cousin. "Allow me to introduce ourselves."

"My name is Daisuke Niwa. The man you saw at the door was the Phantom Thief Dark. My clan's bloodline was born with a condition that is Dark. When the males born of our clan turn fourteen our DNA undergoes a change. We turn into the Phantom Thief. This change can only occur when we feel strong feelings for the one we love. If that person loves both of us in return then the changes will cease."

_So he's basically _similar_ to a wizard in a sense that he was _born_ this way_, Harry thought.

"DNA, _Shmee_NA, you're still an abnormality, and I won't tolerate another under this roof," Uncle Vernon snarled.

The creature on Daisuke's shoulder began growling.

"It's okay, Wiz, he's not a threat."

"I won't take anymore effing _emical_ swine in this household, either."

"Fine, we just came for a guy named Harry Potter. Is that you?" Daisuke inquired, turning to Harry.

"Yeah, but I'm telling you now I'm not going back to Hogwarts."

"Relax, we're not here to force you to do _any_thing," Daisuke assured him. "Headmistress McGonagall has instructed us to assist in whatever plans you have."

"I don't _need_ help, I have Ron and Hermione," Harry retorted, getting annoyed to a fine point.

"Daisuke laughed nervously. "Well, uh, just send me an owl if you need anything. I'll, uh, just be going now." The redhead backed away nervously and exited.

"HEY YOU LITTLE THIEF COME BACK WITH THAT _STARRY NIGHT_, THAT COST A _FORTUNE_!" Uncle Vernon bellowed after him following a short pause.

Harry found this diversion as an opportunity to escape.

_Remember the stupid three D's_, Harry thought, concentrating on the Burrow.

Harry was absent to experience Dudley and Aunt Petunia's screams of horror and Uncle Vernon waddling back to help, still furious at the theft of Van Gogh's expensive painting.

He was present, however, to hear Ron's grunt of pain and Hermione's almost-stifled yelp.

"Harry-when-did-you-pass-your-Apparition-Test-no-one-could-have-taken-you-to-the-Ministry-everyone's-tied-up!" Hermione whispered extremely fast.

"I didn't, but having an Apparition license doesn't really matter to me now," Harry replied coolly. "Besides, I'm kind of used to it now."

"'_Used to it_?' You're lucky you weren't splinched _and _that you're already seventeen!" Hermione argued.

"Bloody hell, Harry, you landed right on my stomach, that _bloody hurt_, you _bloody_--"

"Ron, what are you and Hermione doing up there?"

"Hide," Hermione whispered urgently, attempting to shove Harry under the bed.

"The _trunk_, Hermione, hide the _trunk_," Harry ordered in a murmur.

"Shrink it, Ron, it's _Minivolius_," Hermione coerced Ron.

Hastily muttering the spell, Ron shoved the miniaturized trunk in his pocket.

"Why couldn't _you've_ done it?" Ron demanded right before Mrs. Weasley knocked on Ron's door and entered uninvited.

"You're making a racket up here, you two, and just because you're seeing each other is no excuse."

Harry abruptly attempted to sit up, but his head hit the wood railings.

"What was that, Ron?"

"Um, must have been your imagination, Mum," Ron attempted to cover up.

"Oh, no, I heard something under that bed, and I'm going to get rid of it."

"Mrs. Weasley, if I may, is it okay if we try to get rid of whatever's under there ourselves? If it's a Dark creature we could use the experience," Hermione all but implored.

Harry could see in his mind's eye Mrs. Weasley half-glaring, half-measuring with those constantly-mood-changing eyes.

"Oh, all right, I know how much of a magical creature activist you are, Hermione."

Footsteps crossed the wood floor and the click of a shutting door, along with footsteps descending the attic stairs told Harry he had managed to fly under Mrs. Weasley's radar. He inched out from under the bed and stared at his two best friends who were presently blushing and staring at the floor.

"Well, somehow you managed to leave that tiny detail out of your otherwise-lengthy letters."

"We didn't know how to tell you, Harry, otherwise we _would_ have," Hermione defended, still keeping all her concentration on the floor.

"Honestly, mate, we thought you might go dynamite on us and explode."

A short silence followed Ron's timid confession.

Ron broke the pause by demanding, "Why couldn't _you've_ shrunk it, anyway, Hermione?"

"Ron, you _know_ I don't turn seventeen until late August, _why_ are you even asking?" Hermione snapped.

Harry interrupted, "For boyfriend and girlfriend you still haven't kept your arguments to a minimum."

"Has he received your message, Professor Mousy?" Professor McGonagall inquired of Dark, now leaning against a pillar in Minerva's office.

"Yup, and I managed to collect a salary for my errand, Miss Minerva, ma'am," Dark replied coolly.

Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared, but she remembered that her requirement was to not steal in _Hogwarts_, so she kept quiet.

The office's doorknocker sounded, announcing a second visitor.

"Ah, that must be our second addition to staff. You may enter, Miss Hawkins," Professor McGonagall invited the newcomer.

In stepped the youngest-looking applicant to the Potions post Minerva had ever seen, not to mention the first female in years.

"You're an American Auror, are you not?" she inquired.

"Yes, I qualified last month, passing all my tests with flying colors. I applied for this post the next week. Be warned, there's a chance that I'll often be called away for an assignment in America at very irregular times," the woman warned.

"If I may, Professor, you didn't state your first name in your application. May I ask why? We teachers usually acknowledge each other by our first names.

"Exactly. I didn't give it. Only my family and very close friends know my first name, and I intend to keep it that way. You can just call me Hawkins."

The American's gaze wandered around the room at the various silver instruments the headmistress hadn't had the heart to dispose of. Her eyes came to a stop on Dark and began to glisten.

"And who might _you_ be?"

"I can't _believe_ it! My infamy is restricted to _Japan_! I _gotta_ get around more often! Oh, well. My _fine_, fine lady, I am Dark, the infamous Phantom Thief from Japan," Dark replied, turning on the charm.

"Hmmm. I am torn between the consideration of divulging my first name to a thief such as you," Professor Hawkins commented, smiling flirtatiously.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, bringing back the attention of the two new teachers. "If I may, Dark and Hawkins, I request any infatuations between the two of you to be kept to a minimum."

"Fine, whatever," Dark snapped. Once again the black fumes enveloped his body, transforming him back into Daisuke.

"Professor McGonagall, will we be sleeping in a dormitory or the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's quarters?" Daisuke inquired.

"That is entirely up to you. However, I would suggest you remain in the teacher's quarters, seeing as experiencing you wandering off at your teaching times would alert other boys and girls in your dormitory."

Daisuke's brow suddenly became furrowed as he closed his eyes in frustration. Professor McGonagall was not concerned, for she knew such arguments with Dark in Daisuke's mind were frequent. Hawkins, however, had never seen such behavior in fourteen-year-old boys.

"Look, if that _bothers_ you so much then just _cool_ it, don't blow a fuse in _here_," she grumbled.

Minerva hid a slight smile under her hand and instead stared down at a scroll she had found in one of her desk drawers. Albus Dumbledore's loopy script was scribbled all over it in an explanation of how his successor was to handle Harry Potter's probable absence from Hogwarts in case of a dilemma or emergency.

"Don't lose heart, Minerva," said Professor Dumbledore's portrait from the wall. "Harry will have greater aid this year than I could ever have hoped for."

"For a boy of seventeen to actually _search_ for Lord Vol…Vol…_Voldemort_ isn't only a fool's cause, it is _suicide_," Minerva voiced, not even attempting to hide the concern she felt for the teenager's sake.

"My dear Minerva, I'm afraid the only comfort I can give you is that young Harry has seen his way through a magnanimity of grueling tasks that he should not have had to endure at an age such as this. Plus there will also be a trustworthy group of people aiding him, doubtless including Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger, not to mention our young Mr. Dark and his tamer, Mr. Niwa."

"Someone call me?"

Daisuke had apparently arisen from his disagreement with Dark, for he was staring around the office attempting to discover who had said his name.

"Just as a reference, Mr. Niwa," Professor McGonagall assured him.

"Please, Professor, heh, um, just call me Daisuke."

"Likewise, you should address me as Minerva."

"Uh, o-okay, then Pro—I mean, Minerva," Daisuke stuttered. "We've decided to be sorted along with Riku, my girlfriend."

"So be it, Daisuke," Professor McGonagall agreed. "Now all we have to do is wait…wait for the September the first, which will bring with it the Hogwarts Express, loaded with a new, rejuvenated legacy of Hogwarts students."

"Admirable, suspenseful sentiments, Minerva. Actually makes me anxious to _teach_ these teenagers," Hawkins commented.

I SWEAR, THERE WILL BE A SECOND CHAPTER SOON, SO DON'T KILL ME; IT'S A WORK IN PROGRESS! -- I bet you think I'm insane, now, but then, who _wouldn't_ be, writing a fanfiction with both Harry Potter _and_ DNAngel. Hee hee hee.


	2. Journey Into the Past

"Are you ready to go, guys?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood outside the Burrow late the night following Harry's arrival. All three had a rucksack packed with custom traveling necessities.

"Yes, Harry, we're ready for anything," Hermione replied, gripping Ron's hand for support.

Harry turned from his two best friends and stuck out his right thumb. Instantly, a violently-purple triple-decker bus pulled up in front of the surly threesome.

Out jumped a tall, elegant woman in a white blouse, purple blazer and skirt, and high black heels. Her black hair was pulled back into a braid that fell almost to the backs of her knees. Atop her head was a purple beret with a white fluff ball on top. Her sparkling blue eyes crinkled in a smile to greet them.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus: Emergency Transport for the Stranded Witch or Wizard. My name is Sihoru Kurigusagawa and I will be your conductress for this evening," the beautiful lady recited.

When Harry first caught sight of this woman he felt a surge of hatred toward Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic. The Bus's previous conductor, Stan Shunpike, was locked away in Azkaban for, as the _Prophet_ had said, "discussing the plans of well-known Death Eaters," and Stan's imprisonment had pissed Harry off.

Whatever this woman's name, Siho Curry, or something, she was merely her replacement. Seeing her made Harry think the Ministry was simply using disposable witches and wizards to make everyone else think they weren't completely stupid, which they were.

Sensing Harry's tension, Ron stepped forward and inquired, "How much to Godric's Hollow?"

"Well, that would depend on what luxuries you want. For all three of you to have the basic package it's twenty Sickles; thirty-five to add hot chocolate; five Galleons for all that and a removable tattoo of either a dragon, phoenix, or unicorn," Sihoru offered.

Pulling himself from his stupor, Harry pulled from his sack a bag of money and counted out five Galleons into Ms. Kurigusagawa's outstretched palm. "This way," she ordered, leading them up the steps of the bus.

"I don't know why you're bothering to go _there_, thought. From what I've heard, a couple was murdered there sixteen years ago, and their little boy was orphaned," Sihoru proffered, guiding Ron, Hermione, and Harry up to the second level of the bus, where there were the same brass bedsteads such as Harry had seen the first time he was a passenger. "From other things I've heard the British Ministry of Magic seems to think this now-teenaged boy is to exact his revenge on his parents' killer or die trying. Doesn't that just sound _ludicrous_?"

None of the three friends said a word as they and their guide settled near a stop near the middle of the level.

"I'll be back in a moment."

The way this talkative woman scuttled about in those heels, it was astounding that she didn't have scrapes and bruises from frequent falls.

"Sihoru Kurigusagawa…that name sounds familiar," Hermione pondered for Harry and Ron to hear.

"You must have read it from something about Asia's fancy-pantsy schools. No surprise," Ron muttered.

"That's right: Kurigusagawa's Academy for Magical Youths, or Kurigusagawa no Todai Maboroshi Kodomo. The founder, Sinboku Kurigusagawa, is her great-great-great-grandfather. Her father is the head hakase, and when he passes away or retires, whichever comes first, she'll inherit the school, and she must have graduated only a year or two ago," Hermione explained, eyes wide as she considered the thought of such a young headmistress.

"By the way, how was Bill and Fleur's wedding?" Harry inquired, not being able to attend himself.

"It was _wicked_, Harry. There was a chorus of veela there to sing all these mushy-gushy love songs, and almost everyone from both families and all their friends, it was _huge_!" Ron said very fast.

"They got married on the coast of the English Channel, it was quite _beautiful_, I wish you could have been there," Hermione added.

"What did Ginny look like?" Harry slipped in casually.

"Oh, she was _gorgeous_! She had this beautiful floor-length white dress, her hair was curled, she had a blooming lily behind her ear…she was a bridesmaid, you know."

_Now I _really_ wish I could have been there_, Harry regretted.

Sihoru returned carrying one steaming mug of cocoa in one hand and two in the other.

"Here's your cocoa. Now which tattoos would you like?"

"Unicorn, please," Hermione chose immediately.

Not before pondering awhile Ron selected a Japanese/Chinese style dragon like people see in several mythology books.

Even when Harry had first heard the tattoo choices he knew what he wanted and voiced when asked.

"Phoenix, definitely."

If the new conductress had noticed any sudden, fleeting tension between the three she didn't acknowledge it. She handed them their tattoos and returned to the lower level. Below, they could hear Sihoru assuring Ernie Prang, who had remained the driver that they were ready to go. Harry gripped his bedpost until his knuckles turned white.

BANG! All the beds slid forward about five feet when the bus leaped forward into another neighborhood. Silence took hold as Harry, Hermione, and Ron sipped their cocoa and considered where they were going to put their tattoos.

"Is there a spell to make tattoos permanent?" Ron acknowledged Hermione.

"I hardly think they would have information on how to permanently tag your body in a sensible schoolbook, Ron," Hermione scolded.

"Is that a yes?"

It apparently was because Hermione suddenly sported a frown worthy of Professor McGonagall and jerkily continued sipping her hot beverage.

Hours passed as Ron and Hermione discussed the wedding in further detail for Harry's amusement.

"Mum baked the cake, and it was _enormous_! It had, like, five layers with foot-tall bride and groom under an arch at the time. It was gone by the time almost everyone had had seconds and thirds."

"The pastor was an Italian friend of Fleur's aunt name Michelangelo Pierro. When he asked Fleur to say her vows she started gabbling in French until she realized that almost everyone could speak English and most couldn't understand French, so _that_ was a little humorous."

"Oh, and Percy and Scrimgeour came, isn't that _weird_ for _both_ of them?" Ron inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Scrimgeour was no doubt looking for me, trying to persuade me to be the Ministry's new poster boy. Percy probably came along just because of his job."

The bus skidded to a stop on a dimly-lit street. Sihoru came up and climbed to a third level to inform a fellow passenger that it was their turn to depart. Minutes later she descended again, levitating a large trunk with her wand. Tailing closely behind her was a teenager with brown hair that stopped close above her shoulder.

When she eventually stepped off the bus it roared off again. Hermione fell asleep over an hour later, which neither Ron nor Harry understood, seeing as Ernie still hadn't learned to drive properly.

After three more stops, Kurigusagawa returned to the middle level and announced the bus's arrival at Godric's Hollow. Ron nudged Hermione awake, whispering in her ear, "This is our stop."

The three sluggishly hoisted their sacks over their shoulders and followed the woman down the steps. When their feet hit the pavement Sihoru said, "Please ride with us again." With that the Knight Bus vanished from sight with a flash.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry did a one-eighty and took a look at their surroundings to familiarize themselves with it. Their first impression, however, wasn't notable.

Perhaps it was due to the blackness of midnight, but the houses all seemed eerie and gloomy. The only sources of light were dim streetlamps, and one was nearing the end of its last fuse. Trash cans rattled as the occasional stray cat or dog scrounged in the shadows for something to eat.

Near the end of their scan emptiness as large as a moderate house stood lonely and desolate. On the concrete of this space lay dark, dusty ashes and planks of wood no one had ever bothered to recycle. No protection from possible winds

Apparently noticing this, Ron whispered, "Where are we supposed to _sleep_, mate?"

Harry did not answer. The truth was that he had contemplated their situation several times and highly doubted any normal Muggles would house three unfamiliar faces, especially those close to adulthood. No alternatives could be thought of, so he'd told Ron and Hermione to pack sleeping bags for use in an emergency.

"Harry?"

Hermione snapped him out of his last-minute, emergency plans for nabbing a place to stay. She and Ron stared at him in expectation, obviously awaiting the transaction of a brilliant plan.

"Who's there?"

A small beam similar to what Muggles call the "light at the end of the tunnel" began bobbing closer to the three friends who suddenly huddled closer together for closure. When the light was only a foot away a face was connected to the voice that had demanded the identity of the strangers.

Due to the shadows that flickered on the man's face specific features were indiscernible. However, familiar-looking eyes and tiny nose could definitely be recognized. The light he shed came from a nearly-six-inch wand he wielded like a sword. The man was clearly a wizard, one they had never met but had a vague sensation of knowing.

For a moment, the wizard's eyes seemed hardened, defensive, and cunning. However, after a short scanning glare at each three, they softened and took on a dreamy composure.

"Ah, so it wasn't mere possibility," he muttered more to himself than to Potter, Weasley, and Granger. "This way, if you please."

He turned tail and swaggered back in the direction he had come. They reluctantly followed, staring at the man's back with puzzled expressions. They saw his wand flicker toward the door of a small, one-story house. His dim silhouette beckoned them inside with his free hand. They entered the household and were immediately stunned at the remaining welcoming committee dressed in a cotton nightshirt and blue bathrobe, complete with eagle slippers.

"Hi Harry; Hermione; Ron," Luna Lovegood greeted the three friends. "I had a feeling you'd return to your roots. I see you've already met Daddy. You're free to stay here until you go on your way."

Having midnight visitors she before only had a hunch would be coming to call didn't seem to faze her at all. In fact, she seemed exuberant, ready to serve. She reminded Harry of a bustling maid when she was in this mood.

"Mr. Potter, I didn't have a chance to personally thank you for that interview you did for my magazine two years ago," Mr. Lovegood said, wringing Harry's hand. "Luna might have told you that we received extravagant feedback from the readers. If you ever want to do another just send me an owl, and make it out to Felix Lovegood."

Harry simply nodded until Mr. Lovegood released his hand.

"Your parents and I were very good neighbors. Of course, we, my wife and I, that is, were only here a month before that tragic accident," he elaborated, staring at an unspecific spot inches above Harry's head, seeming to be lost in thought and memory.

"Why don't you follow me? Sometimes he can stay like that for _ages_," Luna suggested, gesturing toward the hall.

"Er, right," Harry agreed, nodding in haste and following Luna with Hermione and Ron.

"Hermione, you can sleep with me. There's an extra room for when my cousins come to stay, so Harry, Ron, you can sleep there," Luna informed them, opening the second door on the right and inviting the boys inside.

Based on their experience with Luna's peculiar mannerisms Harry and Ron were quite surprised with the interior decorum. Sky blue walls with the occasional Van Gogh or Monet painting hung at random intervals. Two queen-size beds stood on either side of a bedside table with an oil lamp on its slightly-dusty surface.

"Hope you're comfortable. Good night!"

Luna shut the door with a quiet snap.

"Hermione's going to have a right good time with Loony," Ron cracked after a few minutes' pause, dumping his luggage on one of the beds.

Harry made no comment. He had never considered that Godric's Hollow could be a wizarding neighborhood. He had believed that, like Privet Drive, he and his family were the only witch and wizards around.

With thoughts such as these still circling in his head, Harry's eyelids eventually betrayed him, and he collapsed on his bed and drifted off into dreamless sleep.


	3. Captivating Secret

Despite the late hour at which he drifted off to sleep, Harry woke around three o'clock in the morning. Careful not to wake Ron, Harry rolled off the bed and onto the carpeted floor, which stifled the noise he made. Tiptoeing through the house, Harry found the front door and exited the residence. He retraced his steps to the ruin that was his home sixteen years ago.

He worked his way through the wreckage, shifting planks of wood, searching for something previously overlooked that he could salvage. Doing so was hard owing to the fact that everything was covered with ash and soot, and the walls' remains covered the concrete. The one advantage to this blackness was the fact that color was easily discernible.

While Harry wiped soot and ash away to clear what he could see, a glint of scarlet popped up. Eyes widening, Harry dusted off the excess debris. When it was all cleared away, a scarlet box gilded with gold could be seen. An inscription in a foreign language was written around the edges. It was absolutely _the_ most _beautiful_ box he had ever seen. With delicate hands, he extricated the precious heirloom from the dusty debris.

_This should help_, he thought.

He slowly and steadily made his way back to Luna's house. Harry stopped at the doorstep and sat down.

_There might be something that belonged to my parents in here_, Harry thought, creaking open the lid. Music started playing. He opened it completely.

A lion on its rear legs rotated on a central pole. The tune was one that Harry had never heard before, yet it seemed to move something within him, a memory hidden by primitive senses. A mirror on the inside of the lid reflected his relaxing face.

The door opened behind him. Harry quickly shut the music box.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Potter. Tell Ron and Hermione I had to leave early," Mr. Lovegood informed him. He looked every bit the rushed magazine editor. A slice of toast was in the hand that wasn't attempting to correct his robes. His hair was ruffled, and a slightly dim light revealed light purple circles under his eyes. Just as suddenly as he'd opened the door he Disapparated, leaving a loud ringing noise in Harry's ears.

Starting to feel tired, Harry hoisted himself from the doorstep and reentered Luna's house.

Inside it was still silent with only the interruption of Ron's snores. Not wanting to share his discovery with either Ron or Hermione yet, he hid the music box under his pillow where he had a feeling it would be safe for the time being.

_There's something about this music box…what is it?_

Ron started stirring in bed at that moment. Harry hastily scrambled into his covers and pretended to be asleep lest Ron awake. However, Ron's snores soon continued, easing Harry's fear that Ron might have seen his find.

He'd show it to him when he was ready. At last, he drifted back to sleep.

Familiar music began playing in his ears. Harry found his music box on a leaf-strewn forest floor.

Apprehensive of its damage, Harry reached out to retrieve it. Unexpectedly it started retreating of its own accord. No matter how closer he inched to it, it was always outside his grasp. He knew not how long he pursued it nor the amount of energy he spent. Finally, he became exhausted and discontinued his pursuit.

A rustling in the bushes caught his attention. He reached for his wand, but it squawked and transformed into a yellow rubber chicken which hung limp in his hand. He was unprepared to face whatever came from those bushes.

There emerged a teenage boy, almost fourteen, with almost-black brown hair. Everything he donned was black, and chains hung from his pants in decoration. The effect was immediately ruined when Harry glimpsed his muddy hands, scratched-up arms, and red, gasping face.

"Help…me…." he gasped, the fell to the ground.

Another sudden movement in the forest startled the boy back into running.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

A shot of green light filled Harry's vision as the Killing Curse rushed to the boy and hit him square in the back. He fell to the ground limply, already dead.

Immediately, Harry's scar began flaring, feeling as if it would split his head and create a canyon.

"_Crucio_!" the voice came again, and this spell hit Harry in the chest, pain similar to Aunt Petunia's white-hot iron pressing in on him from all sides.

Harry sat bolt upright in bed, clutching his scar, trembling, cold sweat running down his face and neck. He could still hear the music in his head, that music which played a death march to the rhythm of the stranger's demise.

_It was just a dream_, Harry thought fiercely to himself. _ Voldemort _knows _I can sometimes see his actions. Why would he let me see _that?

Something soft being thrown in his face startled him from his thoughts.

"Oy, Harry, it's nine o'clock, already, what's the deal?"

Ron stood next to his bed, light shining on his face through the window.

"Oh, Ron, it's you…I…I didn't sleep well."

"Well, _obviously_, if you're so dazed you wake up in broad daylight and don't notice me sitting _right next to you_."

"Well, notice _this_." Harry threw the pillow back at Ron, who barely dodged the assault.

"Oh, okay, you wanna play around? This means _war_," Ron joked, retrieving his pillow. He started attacking Harry's head.

In an attempt to defend his only head, Harry swung up his arm, lost his balance, and fell to the floor on his neck. Undaunted, Ron vaulted over the bed and continued pummeling relentlessly.

"_Boys_," someone whispered.

Looking up, Ron and Harry found Hermione leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, laughter spread across her face.

"Good morning to you, too," Ron joked, pounding Harry one more time.

"What's that, Harry?" Hermione inquired a quizzical look on her face. She was pointing at the head of Harry's bed, and he could already determine the object of her attention.

"It's a music box I found where my house was. I was going to tell you when I felt the time was right. I wanted to make sure it was just a music box, nothing else about it."

"Well, mate, don't you think it'll be easier with two extra heads?" Ron asked pounding Harry's head with the pillow.

"Sorry."

"Why are you wasting your breath with apologies? Let's get to work," Hermione snapped.

"I love when a girl takes charge."

Luna walked past, eyes unfocused and staring off into space.

"Looks like Loony's not used to company when her dad's not around," Ron said under his breath.

"Uh, Ron, do you mind getting the _hell off me_?"

Like a child told by a parent to stop stealing cookies from the jar, Ron untangled himself and stood up.

"Let me get some different clothes on first."

After three minutes of changing, Harry snatched the artifact from his bed and brought it to the kitchen table where Ron was sitting with Hermione in his lap. The sight and thought of these two together after squabbling over trivial issues for six years still made him feel weird.

"When I first listened to the music it was like I was on the verge of remembering something. Other than that I didn't feel like there was anything out of place," Harry explained, setting the box in plain sight.

Hermione left Ron's lap to grab the beautiful object in Gryffindor's colors.

"I can't see anything unusual about it, either; just to be sure…"

What happened next was quite perplexing. Taking the box into a position where she could open it she placed her hand upon the lid and pulled up. Instead of opening it charged up with what seemed to be vivid, electric blue lightning bolts. The charge blasted the girl right back into Ron's lap.

"Ouch!"

"My turn," Ron declared, reaching out as his girlfriend had. The same protective field sent him keeling over backwards with Hermione landing on his stomach.

"Oof! Harry, any music _you_ listened to must have been in your head because there's _no way_ to open that thing, it's been _enchanted_."

"I'm _serious_; I found it this morning, covered in ashes!"

"Well, _obviously_ you _found_ it, Harry, but maybe you might've been imagining the music from lack of sleep," Hermione countered in a gentle voice, not wanting to anger her friend.

Harry snatched the music box from the table for everyone to see. There it was: the rearing lion, with its entrancing music. He sank into his stupor, losing himself in the melody of its lullaby. He could hear someone calling him back to the present, but he didn't want to leave this sense of forgetfulness and serenity. That's when the music ceased, and Harry saw Ron and Hermione with their hands on the lid.

"There's a spell restricting its use to very certain people," Hermione deduced.

"What's this language, Hermione? Did you study it in Ancient Runes?" Ron inquired, pointing out the markings.

"Let me study it a minute," Hermione ordered, shooing the boys from the room. "Get Luna in here, I might need some help with this."

"OY, LUNA, HERMIONE NEEDS HELP UNDERSTANDING OLD PEOPLE WRITING!" Ron bellowed without warning.

"My ears aren't blocked with nargles, Ronald. Your vocal chords must have some spentur nests in them, though, you _might_ want to get that checked before they infect your lungs," Luna came in saying in her light-headed, dreamy voice.

Ron gave Luna a "whatever _that_ is" look then snickered in Harry's direction.

"How about some chess while we wait?"

"Alright, but I swear I'll get you this time, Ron."

"Why don't you make sure you can survive your big talk?" Ron teased, punching Harry lightly on the arm.

All in all, Ron embarrassingly defeated Harry in three games while Harry meagerly checkmated Ron in the fourth. It was then that Luna came to summon them back to the kitchen. Hermione sat staring at the music box, a sheaf of parchment with writing on it even closer. The expression plastered on her face made Ron and Harry nervous. She had worn that face only once before: when she had first laid eyes on Harry's beloved Firebolt.

"You might want to sit," was all she said.

Ron and Harry settled themselves in the wooden, stiff-backed chairs, apprehensive of what would be coming.

"This music box is old, even though it looks brand new and it's been buried in the ruins of a burned house. The ancient text gives a clue to its approximate age, at least one thousand years. This is what it says.

"'Forget me not while wait within this chest of memory. My love for you will pass through generations, no matter where it leads. My darling, Godric, my song of truth shall stir within thee and lead you to me.'"

Silence took hold as the meaning of this inscription sank in.

"If I heard that name correctly, it sounds like a mushy-gushy love song for Godric Gryffindor that my mum would listen to," Ron joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"You know what this means, don't you, Harry?"

Of _course_ he did. How _couldn't_ he understand? It explained _everything_!

Realizing the depth of Hermione's question, Ron looked at the table where his fingers lay intertwined with hers.

"I'm Godric Gryffindor's only surviving descendant.


	4. Introductions

Minerva sat in her predecessor's chair at the High Table, feeling awkward. It was the first year that she would be watching the Sorting from the sidelines. It had been almost a month since Dark and Hawkins had joined the staff, and now Hawkins sat three seats down from Minerva's left. The older students watched as Professor Flitwick explained to the first years how the Sorting worked.

The headmistress observed as the newbies' fear-stricken faces became more stressed. She had felt exactly the same once.

Filius then unrolled a sheaf of parchment that he had to hold over his head to read. Seeing the professor hidden by the list of students made them crack a slight smile. That's when Minerva realized she hadn't listened to the Sorting Hat's song at all, hadn't noticed the applause following it.

_Pull yourself together, lass, you're not _Deputy_ Headmistress anymore._

"Adney, John," Flitwick announced.

A tall tanned boy with black, spiked, red-highlighted hair and hazel eyes stepped forward and placed the hat on his head. After almost a minute the Hat declared him a Ravenclaw.

One by one the children sat down to be sorted.

"Harada, Riku."

Slight stirring emerged at the sound of the foreign name. They hadn't heard of her on the Hogwarts Express. What they didn't know was that she had come on the Knight Bus shortly after Daisuke had made the decision to be sorted. Riku was the girlfriend he had been speaking of.

She strutted up, sat on the stool, let the Hat sink to her ears and straightened her posture, sitting tall and proud.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Minerva's house applauded exuberantly, welcoming the foreigner. She shifted her attention back to the Sorting to see "Jacobsen, Sherrod" be sorted into Slytherin.

Finally, Filius reached Daisuke. When he sat on the stool, everyone saw his violently red hair, and the older students leaned toward Ginny Weasley and asked if he was related to her in any way.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Once again jubilant applause arose from Ginny's table. Daisuke sat down next to Riku and squeezed her hand, smiling.

Finally, the Sorting finished with "Zeek, Matt" becoming a Hufflepuff. Professor McGonagall stood up and waited for quiet to settle in the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we eat, I have a few start-of-term notices to give out. First years, the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to all students. We also have two new additions to staff this year." Quickly glancing at the Gryffindor table she observed Daisuke whispering something to Riku and leaving the table. "Both of them are foreigners, so I want you to help make this year as comfortable as possible.

"First is Professor Hawkins from America. She is a young Auror in their Ministry, so attempting to conceal anything from her will be pointless. She will be filling the position of Potions Master."

Hawkins stood at the end of this introduction, unsmiling, and brushed some of her long hair behind her shoulder. She sat back down quickly, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Our second new appointment is from Japan, and his name is Dark Mousy, and he will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Good luck, Professor!"

At the same time that Dark came in and took his seat Daisuke's pet, Wiz, took Daisuke's seat as an impersonation to protect Dark's identity.

Dark stood once again to greet his pupils.

"Hey, English stiffs, my name is Dark, and you won't act stupid in my class, because I'll make you regret it if you do. That's all I got to say."

He sat back down, eyes closed, a smirk across his face.

"I have some graver news to share with you, as well," Professor McGonagall continued. "As you should all know, one of the most feared wizards of all time, Lord _Voldemort_, has returned. Lots of lives have been extinguished because of _his_ destructive motives. There are some here who have lost friends and family. Because of his comeback after sixteen years of silence, we were caught off our guard. Now, however, we are more prepared to protect ourselves from his evil wrath. We shall be canceling certain procedures and adding new ones.

"The first, which I'm sure will be a disappointment to our older students, is that all future Hogsmeade visits will be postponed. I must add that this if for your own safety," Professor McGonagall added, having to raise her voice over bursts of outrage.

"Also, class changes are to be conducted with a teacher present. Security precautions will be the same as the incident five years ago. You will return to your dormitories by six o'clock every evening, _no _exceptions. Madam Hooch will oversee all Quidditch practices. The rare occasion when someone will leave the castle for non-class purposes will require a signed permission note from your head of house. Before you leave, you will present the note to me for approval.

"As usual, magic in the corridors is prohibited, and Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has revised, once again, the list of items restricted from the school, which includes products of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley. You may review this list on the door of his office.

"Now I'm sure you're famished, so we will now let the feast commence."

Professor McGonagall waved her hands and spread her arms wide, watching the incredulous looks on the first years' faces as the house elves magically sent up the first course. She watched as they snatched at everything they could reach like ravenous wolves. No dish of mashed potatoes was safe, no slab of pork chops left unhindered.

After several minutes the dinner disappeared and luscious-looking desserts took their place. Every slab of ice cream and éclair, cake and lollipops, was demolished leaving only dregs and crumbs that were wiped clean from their golden plates.

Professor McGonagall stood once again. "First years, you will need to follow your House prefects to the dormitories. I hope you are ready for classes tomorrow. Good night."

Heavy with food and sleep, the students slid back from their seats and stood to follow the demands of prefects of their House. Dark immediately withdrew from the High Table and fled through the side exit. On cue, Daisuke/Wiz departed from Riku to switch back with the real Daisuke.

All the while, Hawkins watched, first as Dark departed, then as the students left the Great Hall. Her head never turned, only her eyes swiveled from side to side as she used her peripheral vision to observe all.

Minerva left her place as well, deciding to retire to bed early. Becoming headmistress was still new to her, despite her position of second-in-command for the past sixteen years. She only lightly suspected what she might experience on the morrow.

Daisuke walked arm-in-arm with Riku, wondering how long he would be able to keep his second identity as Professor Dark a secret. He still remembered how he would have to see Minerva before breakfast next morning. It was supposed to be very important.

As he and his girlfriend climbed the staircases they admired the artwork and their moving subjects. Dark would have to fight hard to resist the temptation to whisk one away.

"Can you believe it, Daisuke?" Riku demanded. "We've been accepted into a school for _witchcraft_! Isn't it a shame that Risa couldn't come, though? I'm sure she would've _loved_ this place!"

"Uh, I'm sure she's having a good-enough time back home," Daisuke said, referring to the sudden dating that Riku's twin sister Risa had started with Satoshi Hiwatari. It was one of the most unforeseen couples that could be made.

As it turned out Satoshi had an alternate identity as well, Krad. Satoshi's sole purpose in life was to destroy Dark forever. When Dark had resurfaced after forty years, Hiwatari had become commander of the police squad appointed to capture the Phantom Thief.

Also, Risa had been in love with Dark at first sight. She had pleaded him to go out with her, which he eventually agreed to. On that date, he broke the news to her that he didn't lover her, didn't feel the same way, had to return the heart he had stolen from her.

For no reason, Riku started turning red. Daisuke took her hand tightly, not wanting to let go. However, she was blushing for a different reason.

A cackle rent the air right between Riku and Daisuke's heads.

"Firsties are so fun. _This _one has a nice bust."

The prefect pivoted on the movement and took out her wand.

"Do you want me to get the Bloody Baron, Peeves? Show yourself!"

Daisuke and Riku yelped in fright as a squat man with a face twisted into an evil smirk appeared. What startled them more was that this specter was floating in midair.

"I must say, I greatly enjoy my new hobby," Peeves chortled, his hand resting on Riku's breast.

For a second Riku was frozen. Then…

"PERVERT! GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN _DARK_! I CAN'T BELIEVE HE'S EVEN _HERE_!"

Riku took a swipe at Peeves' head, making him swoop away, cackling with glee. He then flew back down the corridor.

"What an _impressif_ combination of concealment and perverted behavior. _Ferry_ impressif, _indeed_."

When the first years and the prefect had turned to see who had spoken, they saw the new group of Ravenclaws and their boy prefect. The one who had spoken had wild hair, a playful expression, and blue glasses that covered dancing hazel eyes.

"Lala, come on. I still need to show you the dormitory. Or do you want to find a semi-soft area of flagstone to sleep on tonight?" the girl's guide threatened, a serious glint in his eye.

The girl, Lala her name was, offered no answer, however sarcastic it might have been. She simply smirked and rejoined the group.

Daisuke offered Riku his hand to help her up. She took his hand gratefully, glaring after the backs of the Ravenclaw first years.

"Next time I see that pervert I'm gonna hit him _so hard_…" Riku threatened, straightening her robes.

Daisuke simply smile awkwardly and ran hand-in-hand with her to catch up with the group. He was having the same thoughts as Riku, or at least _Dark_ was.

_That _bastard! _The only lucky guy who has the right to take a swipe at Riku is _me!_ I swear I'm gonna teach him a thing or two about going after someone else's girl!_

_Dark, Riku wouldn't let _you_ feel her up, either. What am _I_, excess _garbage?

_Daisuke, you still have a lot to learn about dealing with the ladies. Best to let me do the woman-handling until you've got it right._

_And this coming from a magical entity starved of a woman's affection for forty years?_

Dark couldn't think of a snappy comeback, so he shut up.

"_Daisuke_! We're there."

Riku's voice jolted him from his dispute with Dark, just in time to hear the prefect give a painting of fat lady in a pink silk dress what seemed to be a password, for she swung forward to admit them.

"Gobbledegook: isn't that a strange choice for a password?" Riku asked Daisuke.

A fellow first year in front of them happened to overhear and turned to respond. Her light brown hair fell almost half an inch below her shoulders. Soft blue eyes accentuated her delicate nose and smiling mouth. In short, she was a babe.

"Gobbledegook is goblin language. It's very complex, and not everyone can understand it. I'm Venus."

"Hi. I'm Daisuke and this is Riku."

Daisuke and Riku introduced themselves, bowing as their culture entitled.

"_We're_ going to have _lots_ of fun here. I've been waiting for this since my brother and sister graduated. They say it's a nose-grinding experience, but I know better. _My_ nose has been ground enough, and it'd be tingling and itching if it thought more would come," Venus said, a smile remaining plastered on her face. She had grabbed both of their hands as a sign of friendship.

The Japanese couple, now starting to feel more comfortable, cracked smiles and shook Venus's hand in returned.

"Good night!"

The prefect's voice removed them from the conversation. They had missed the _entire_ explanation and everyone was up in their dormitories now. The girl didn't stop to give further instructions but went up the left staircase. Daisuke went to the right as Venus and Riku went up the left.

Daisuke received a surprise on almost the sixth step. The stairs simply melted away into a slide. Daisuke slid down. However, he hadn't been trained as a thief for nothing. Before he could land on his rump he found his feet at the last moment and performed a back flip that landed him on balance.

Just then, Riku, Venus, and the prefect came back downstairs. The prefect, Rebecca, if he remembered correctly, was laughing her head off.

"That's what you get for not paying attention," she was saying.

"That was a dirty trick and you know it! I guess Dark was _right_ in at least calling you 'English stiffs'!" Riku scorned.

Rebecca just kept laughing.

_SCORE! Now, Daisuke, kiss little Riku goodnight. Seeing as how we're not 'out' yet, and we're teachers now, I'll try not to transform._

_Say what?_

"Daisuke, I guess I'll see you in the morning," Riku said, awakening him once again.

"I-I guess so," Daisuke stuttered, reaching to take her hand.

She met it halfway, pulling him close. Their heads came closer. Daisuke's heart started pumping.

_Stay cool, Daisuke_.

Their heads drifted closer, foreshadowing either a romantic moment or a fleeting journey to the boys' dormitory.

Their lips finally met, and a universe exploded within Daisuke's mind. It was an experience he'd never forget.

Riku finally detached herself from their kiss.

"That was…_cool_. Good night, Daisuke."

Eyes wide, Daisuke sleepwalked up the boys' staircase.

_Nice job, Daisuke. You survived the wrath of Riku's kiss._

Daisuke acknowledged Dark with a meek, _Uh-huh_.

"Hey, aren't you the Japanese kid?"

Daisuke could barely see who had spoken but he knew it came from a bed near the window.

"Uh, yeah, I am."

The silhouette of an outstretched hand appeared. Daisuke went over and shook it, bowing.

"I'm Chris Wilkins."

"Niwa Daisuke is mine."

"Oh, that's right, you're usually referred to by last name in Japan, aren't you?"

"Yes, actually…"

"Well, as far as I can tell, it's the same in this school, except only with teachers and rivals. You don't expect if from friends."

"Well, _Chris_, I guess I'll see you in the morning," Daisuke bid, changing into pajamas and sliding under the covers.

"I guess so too, Daisuke."

_Oh, don't make me sick, Daisuke._


	5. Hogwarts Wizards, A History

_DAISUKE! UP, UP, UP, YOU LAZY BUM!_

_W-What?_

_HELLO, UP THERE, WE'RE SUPPOSED TO SEE OLD MCGONAGALL BEFORE BREAKFAST, NOW MOVE YOUR LAZY ASS!_

_O-okay, just stop yelling._

_OKAY!_

Disgruntled, Daisuke rolled out of bed and dressed in Dark's clothes.

_Go ahead, Dark._

_What are you, stupid? We're still in the dorm; we can't risk being discovered yet, not when there are still so many hot chicks I could hit on!_

_Oh, boy! Fine._

Daisuke took a bag and stuffed his change of clothes inside. He shouldered his bag and strolled out of the dormitory.

_We'll change in the first bathroom we come by._

_Yeah._

Daisuke exited through the portrait hole as silently as- well, a _phantom_. He made his way through the corridors, searching for the closest lavatory. He didn't care if it was out of order; he just needed to change from his robes and into Dark. On the second floor he found a bathroom with a sign that read OUT OF ORDER on it.

"This'll do."

Daisuke entered and immediately believed he had never encountered a gloomier place. Candles that were mere stubs near the ends of their wicks were scattered on the edges of chipped sinks. A thin layer of water covered the floor, making both Daisuke and Dark wince.

_What a hellhole! Of all the bathrooms you could've picked, Daisuke…_

"Who's there?"

A faint, whiney voice interrupted Dark's thoughts. Through one of the stalls drifted a shimmering ghost of a girl in Hogwarts robes. Round glasses accented her sad-looking eyes, and she looked like she'd recently been crying. However, one look at Daisuke and her face took on a stern expression.

"What are you doing here? In case you haven't noticed, this is a _girls'_ bathroom. Come to torture and tease me like all your other little friends?"

"Oh, um, pardon me. I-I didn't realize—"

"Realize _what_? That I actually have _feelings_ even though I'm _dead_? You men are all the same!"

_Now would be a good time, Dark._

_But _Daisuke_, you're clothes are so _teeny_…_

_DO IT!_

_Fine._

Immediately Daisuke could feel himself get taller. Long purple bangs grazed the top of his vision, and finally Dark's consciousness took over.

"Hey, sweet thing. Sorry I startled you. I'm a new teacher, but I'd like you not tell anyone what you just saw. It's kind of a huge secret."

The ghost couldn't speak; indeed, all she seemed able to do was stare, stare with those wide, fearful eyes.

"You know, if I could, I would take your hand and kiss it as my version of an apology," Dark added, winking in his flirtatious way.

Silver blush rose to her cheeks.

"By the way, I'm Mousy…_Dark_ Mousy."

She giggled.

Suddenly, the bathroom door burst open, and Hawkins walked in, glaring at Dark with a mixture of admiration and contempt.

"Mr. Mousy, classes will start at any time, don't you think you should tend to your duties, whatever they may be?" she demanded.

Dark turned to acknowledge the newcomer and arched an eyebrow.

"And _you_…" Hawkins rounded on the ghost, "don't you have a _toilet_ to haunt?"

At this, the homely specter furrowed her brows and puffed herself up.

"_Well_, of _course_ the stupid _American_ is so blunt—"

"_Yes_, I'm American, and no, I'm not blunt…I'm just _smart_."

The ghost screamed and dove head first into her toilet, splashing water all over the bathroom, snuffing out all the candles.

"Damn ghost won't quit."

As soon as Dark knocked on Professor McGonagall's office door he was permitted entry.

"You wanted to see me, Minerva?"

"Yes, Dark. I have something to give you that I have ever yet been allowed to give one student."

"Am I correct in thinking it isn't a small dose of PDA?"

Minerva's nostrils flared, and her brow furrowed in a stern frown which quickly answered his inappropriate question.

_Dark, you're so _stupid

"As I was saying, there's something you need if you're going to survive this year at all."

Minerva held out a long silver chain on which hung a miniature hourglass.

"This, Dark, is called a Time Turner. It allows one to redo days by hours at a time. It will allow Daisuke to go back to attend classes or yourself to go back and teach. There are only two strict rules you have to follow: you must use it only for school and when you redo hours you must not be seen by others, lest panic ensue. Do you understand the conditions to which you must follow to use such an object?"

"Yup. Piece of cake for a Phantom Thief such as myself." Dark straightened his sleeveless black top and extended his hand to accept the Time Turner.

_Thank her, dumb idiot!_

_Cool it, Daisuke. I was just about to do that…_sheesh

When Professor McGonagall extended her hand to entrust Dark with the Time Turner Dark took her hand in his and kissed it.

_ACK! PERVERT!_

"Thank you, Minerva-san, for your generous gift."

He released her hand and accepted the Time Turner. As he did so, he noticed the lines around her mouth and her overall expressions soften ever so slightly.

"Dark, you can thank me by doing your job _which I assigned you_ professionally and without being caught. You too, Daisuke."

_Tell her she doesn't have to worry about me._

"Daisuke asks you not to worry your lovely head about him. We'll be just fine," Dark said with a smirk.

_ACK! STUPID PARAPHRASER!_

"See ya later, Minerva," Dark bid, and without further ado, swiveled on his heel and strolled out of the office.

Out on the grounds Dark called Wiz to him and gave him simple instructions to become Dark for breakfast that morning, after which the rabbit-like creature flew off to go exploring during his free time. Dark, meanwhile, toured aimlessly around the lawn until he spotted a large hut on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest the new headmistress had mentioned the previous evening.

_I wonder who lives there._

_Oh, _don't_ Dark; we don't know if they're even _up

As most jinxes go, the front door of the hut creaked open, and an enormous boar-hound bounded out, happily wagging his stump of a tail. Following the gigantic dog was a titanic man Dark had noticed sitting on one end of the table at the feast. His name was Rubeus Hagrid, and he unbelievably had _three_ jobs: Care of Magical Creatures professor, gamekeeper, and tamer of Grawp, his younger, full-giant brother, whereas Hagrid was only half. However, only the staff knew of Grawp's residence in the Forbidden Forest until he was civilized enough to be acknowledged by the student body.

Dark strolled up to Hagrid.

"Hey, dude, whatcha doin'?"

Hagrid, seeing who it was, crinkled his face into a smile.

"I'm goin' over ter see Grawpy. We're havin' English lessons t'day, and he's getting' be'er. Want ter come see 'im wi' me?" Hagrid invited.

"Okay, why not? Need anything from me?"

"No, no' really. Jus' a clear voice fer 'im ta hear yeh. Oh, an' jus' in case, yeh migh' wanna get me crossbow from me hut. A little tantrum fer '_im_ can make a little mess. Other'n that', le's go."

Dark obliged to retrieve Hagrid's weapon. He then followed the gamekeeper into the Forest.

From the outside it had looked formidable, so Dark wasn't surprised to find closely-planted trees and gathering darkness. Little of the meek sunlight shone through the high branches of the canopy.

"Ooooh, _scary_. Someone hold my hand."

Hagrid chuckled.  
"Yeh've got all the sarcasm of them Weasley twins."

"Yeah, I've heard they own a joke shop?"

"Tha's righ'. They were th' biggest bunch o' troublemakers in this school since James Potter an' Sirius Black. Shame wha' happened to 'em."

"Potter, you said?"

"Yeah, an' James had a son, Harry. One o' the greates' friends I ever had. He wen' through too much fer a lad of his age. Saw You-Know-Who come back himself. Even saw Albus Dumbledore get murdered an' couldn' do a thing abou' it till it was too late."

"You don't say. Musta been hard for him."

"Yeah, an' you prob'ly a'ready know he's not back this year. He's got somethin' t'take of."

_Yeah, I know _that

Hagrid and Dark reached the point in the forest where the branches were so thick they obscured any of the little sunlight provided.

"We're almos' there. You migh' wanna prepare yerself."

Dark hoisted the crossbow on his shoulder as he trailed behind the large man. Although he had been in far worse situations that this the eerie quiet of the surrounding scenery lifted the hairs on Dark's muscly arms a fraction.

"Here we are."

Dark stopped, staring at the sight laid before him. A huge boulder almost twelve feet tall with a much smaller rock on top sat in front of them. Ropes circled it at several intervals and were tied off to several trees.

"Dark, meet me brother. GRAWPY, WAKEY-WAKEY!"

The rock, to Dark's utter amazement, started twisting and turning in their direction.

"D'yeh want yer tea, Grawpy?"

"Ye', plea, Hagger," the giant replied.

Hagrid drew from the many inner pockets of his overcoat a teapot, tea bags, three mugs, and a box of matches.

"Er, Dark, I'm no good with these Muggle matches. Could you…er…possibly…?"

"Uh, yes?"

Dark took the matchbox and took out a match. Almost so fast that it wasn't seen, Dark struck it against a tree, and flame sprung to life. Hagrid and Grawp stared in wide-eyed fascination.

"Got any firewood, Hagrid?"

"Er…yeah, right over 'ere."

Dark cast the match into the pile of wood where a spit was hanging nearly a foot and a half above.

"Grawpy, we're about to have a pot o' tea."

"O'ay, Hagger."

At that moment Grawp finally set eyes on Dark himself. He made a movement as if to reach out and grab the newcomer. However, he seemed to catch himself and tried to get Hagrid's attention.

"Hagger, who that?" the giant asked, pointing a microphone stand finger at Dark.

"That, Grawp is Dark. De…ar…k. Dark," Hagrid said, annunciating Dark's name slowly so his "little" brother could understand. "He'll be coming with me to see you sometimes."

"Dar'. You Dar'."

The kettle whistled and steam exited the spout. It was time to add the tea bags, which Hagrid did. Finally, the tea was ready.

Hagrid took one of his large mugs, filled it, and gave it to Grawp. At first, the giant was holding it in the palm of his hand.

"No, Grawp, no. Hold it with your fingers. Now stick out yer pinky."

Dark looked as if Oda Nobunaga was charging him with his katana swinging down. His hands were making the sign language symbol for "I love you." He observed skeptically as Grawp and Hagrid carried on an almost-civilized conversation. The younger brother still had a while to go before he could be presented to society but it seemed like he was improving.

Finally, after everyone but Dark had had tea and biscuits, the gamekeeper and his companion had to take their leave. Hagrid withdrew a flute.

"Music puts the little tyke to sleep. We don' wan' 'im disturbin' the other fores' creatures."

He began trilling a sweet, peaceful lullaby that was already making Grawp's eye-lids droop. Hagrid made flicking motions to Dark with his hand, signaling him to go on and leave.

Glad for the invitation Dark turned from the lulling spectacle and lifted his hand as if calling a falcon.

"Wiz, to me!"

Wiz, in his metamorphosed form, flew through the canopy and landed on Dark's hand. Attaching himself to Dark's back, Wiz took flight and burst through the tops of the trees and flew to the edge of the forest.

_Guess I'd better head back._

Daisuke groaned as he continued to wonder at the unbelievable spectacle that was Grawp…especially when Grawp was drinking _tea_.

Breakfast at the High Table was uneventful and quiet. Chattering students conversed with each other about summer and their first day back. Professor Flitwick was going around passing out course schedules. The teachers all got one, and Dark's had two classes going on at once: one for Dark, one for Daisuke. Wiz, pretending to be Dark, had to remember to give it to Daisuke at the Gryffindor table. Meanwhile, Daisuke and Dark had already decided to let Daisuke to have classes first.

Daisuke rose with the rest of the first year Gryffindors and followed them to Potions, his first class.

Hawkins awaited the Gryffindors and Slytherins, sitting on her desk and staring at everyone who came through the door.

Finally, when everyone was settled in their seats with their cauldrons set up, the professor called roll and gave them a short speech afterward.

"The name is Professor Hawkins, clean and simple, and don't you forget it. Let me make two things perfectly clear: I don't give a damn how twisted any of your past teachers were, and I will _not_ tolerate any screwed-up behavior in this classroom. So don't try to run by me any methods you've heard of other professors using because you'll only succeed in losing house points. Questions? Comments?"

Awkward silence followed this announcement. It seemed that Hawkins didn't differ from Snape as far as the welcoming committee was concerned.

_Dark, this American chick is _nuts

_I don't know, I kinda like her… straightforwardness, shall we say?_

"If you don't have a copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger then tough luck, because I'm not giving you one, get your own. Share with someone else or get no credit in class, your choice. Now turn to page 27 and make a Forgetfulness Potion…_now_," Hawkins instructed menacingly.

There was a scurried rummaging for books and potion ingredients. The rest of the class period was spent in partial silence. Hawkins stalked up and down the rows in her jeans and tee shirt, observing each of her pupils' handiwork. When she passed Daisuke she looked into his cauldron to find his potion a shade of indigo instead of sky blue.

"Clear that up, Daisuke, it's worthless."

Daisuke felt a stab as his colleague moved on to Chris critiquing his work.

_What did you expect, a smile and a homework pass?_ Dark demanded.

Daisuke shook himself and moved to the gargoyle sink and poured his "worthless" potion down the drain and rinsing off the remaining bits.

It was with relief that Daisuke and the others climbed the dungeon steps. However, one exhilarated voice rose above the others.

"That vos an easy class, especially if you understood vot the book vos sayink."

Turning, Daisuke, Riku, Venus, and Chris saw a brunette girl conversing with two other girls. She had the same accent as the girl from last night, Lala. She wore silver and green: Slytherin's colors.

Seeing Daisuke, the girl added, "I also remembered to add the right amount oof ingredients at the right times. That really helps."

Once again, Daisuke felt a stab of guilt and lowering self-esteem.

_Are you gonna let the bitch dis you and then not respond?_

_What else _would_ I do? It's true, anyway._

In response, Daisuke smiled at the girls, laughing. "Ha, I guess you're right. I'll have to be more careful next time, then, won't I?"

"Do you, by any chance, have a sister in Ravenclaw? Lala?" Chris asked, addressing the first speaker.

"Yes, I assume you haff already met her?"

"Oh, yes, and I can see a lot of family resemblance," Riku informed their antagonist.

"I am Lulu, older by six minutes, and we are fraternal twins, not identical."

"Yeah, I can see some facial and figural difference, such as the lack of glasses," Venus commented.

Lulu smiled, but her companions scowled.

_Daisuke quit socializing so we can change._

"Sorry, guys, I have to go to the bathroom," Daisuke interrupted, breaking away from the group and heading to the restroom on the first floor.

Changing…groaning…chuckling…then Dark withdrew the Time Turner and upturned it once.

"I am Dark, and I don't care whether or not you call me _professor_. You will be broken to my will by Halloween; I can assure you of that right now. You are here to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts, so I don't want any 'Meet me in the trophy room tonight' or 'How's it going, hot stuff' while you are in _my_ classroom. Got that?"

Dark leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed, giving everyone a teasing glare as he related names with faces. He picked out Lala, the Ravenclaw girl, and zoomed in on her face. The Hufflepuffs and other Ravenclaws seemed like people in a massive throng of people.

"I myself am not a wizard, per se. I just have an encyclopedia-load of experience with Dark Arts. However, I am aware of the numerous spells that wizards employ in defense. One of the most basic is the Disarming Charm. Someone volunteer, or I'll choose someone myself."

Nervous glances were exchanged throughout the room, but Lala boldly raised her hand.

"Ah, Lala, front and center ASAP."

The mischievous girl obeyed, showing no emotion on her face.

"Know any curses yet, girl?"

_Dark, don't go digging your own grave._

"A few minor vons."

"Come at me 'vith a simple von.'"

Thinking a moment, Lala finally withdrew her wand at Dark and shouted, "_Locomotor Mortis!_"

Before the spell could hit its target, Dark held out his hand and yelled, "_Expelliarmus!_"

A white shield, of sorts, sprung to life and deflected the curse back on its originator. Lala's legs glued themselves together and she began to lose her balance. Dark caught her under her arms before she fell, saying, "I hope you know the counter jinx to that Leg-Locker Curse."

Fortunately she did, and she sat back down when her legs were separated.

"The Disarming Charm is a temporary shield and literally disarms the opponent by relieving them of their weapon. You saw that Lala, however, managed to keep a somewhat killer grip, so she managed to hold on.

"There is, however, one fault in this spell: major curses, such as _Avada Kedavra_ and the other Unforgivable Curses, which you will learn about when you're older, cannot be deflected. So be nice to everyone, okay?"

All the students managed to crack a nervous smile. For the rest of the class Dark called up various students to demonstrate curses that might or might not be deflected. Sometimes, from lack of suitable curses, Dark would be the assailant and the student would have to efficiently protect themselves. One of these situations sent Dark hurtling into his desk, disturbing some of the papers and causing the students to laugh at Dark, who had had his Full-Body Bind reflected back on him. The student who cursed him fortunately knew the countercurse and set Dark straight.

"Very well done, Crawford, that's the first time a mere _child_ managed to curse me effectively."

The boy blushed at being both complimented and insulted by this Japanese man.

Despite this one defeat, the students in the audience stood in awe of his knowledge and loyally took the notes he required them to take.

_I never thought I'd see the day when you'd get sensible enough to teach a class of foreigners_, Daisuke joked.

_Get used to it, Daisuke, because you'll be experiencing it for a year._

_Well, to the restroom._

This procedure continued for the entire day. First were Daisuke's classes; then Dark would go back and teach; then Daisuke would go to his next class. By dinner both were exhausted from a day that was twice as long from redoing hours. Tonight, Wiz took Dark's place at the High Table once again. Daisuke socialized with Riku, Venus, and Chris.

"Do you think Professor McGonagall's teaching Transfiguration because she always has been, she likes it, or because no one took the job?" Venus asked, digging into some roast chicken.

"If it was the third, then the Ministry would have appointed somebody. That's partly why my mum and dad were having a row about Hogwarts: they didn't want me to come because of You-Know-Who being back and Dumbledore dead," Chris reasoned.

Chris, with his black, spiked, red-highlighted hair, tanned skin, and blue eyes were duly noted by several girls up and down the table. He looked like he belonged on the race track.

"Who was Dumbledore?" inquired Riku.

"Bloody hell! Don't tell me you've never heard of _Dumbledore_!" Chris exclaimed.

"Dumbledore's _famous_! He actually _taught_ You-Know-Who! He was ancient!" Venus said with zeal.

"Wow," Riku muttered. "And…what's You-Know-Who's name?"

Both Chris and Venus's mouth dropped open in disgust and admiration.

"Mum told me _never_ to say it," Venus said dramatically. "She said it might curse us, or something."

"Same here," Chris warned.

"Even if you just whisper it?"

With that compromise, Venus leaned forward and murmured the Dark Lord's name in her ear.

"Voldemort?"

Silence ran all up and down the table as people gasped in fear, looking around for the man who had managed to survive on almost nothing for nearly sixteen years. Eventually, people began speaking again, and the foursome had some cover to talk about this much-feared subject.

"Anyway, guess who murdered Dumbledore? Severus Snape, last year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Chris muttered.

"Oh, God!"

No matter how many times Daisuke heard this story it filled him with unquenchable anger. Dumbledore-san had been killed by a man he had vouched for! This Snape character was a traitor.

"I need to get a head start on homework," Daisuke told his friends, squeezing Riku's hand as he excused himself.

_You feel the same way I do when I hear that story?_

_Oh, yeah,_ Daisuke answered.

When Daisuke gave the password and entered the common room he ascended the boys' staircase to get his books. He had two essays due: one for Hawkins and one for McGonagall.

_Daisuke_, Dark interrupted, _how are we going to manage when you've got Defense Against the Dark Arts? And what kind of hell do you think the kids are raising while I'm gone?_

_Wiz, and I don't want to know._


	6. Discoveries and Meetings

_**Sorry for the delay, guys. I've been really busy. Anyway, here's chapter six. Enjoy!**_

_**Guten nacht – Good night. (pronounced gooten knocked)**_

_**Vier – four (pronounced veer)**_

_**Ja – yes, yeah (pronounced yah)**_

Harry slept in the Leaky Cauldron, restless with the events of the last several weeks. Even after a month's knowledge and contemplation it was difficult to wrap his brain around the fact that, being the only member of the Potter family left, he was Godric Gryffindor's only surviving heir. On another level it was almost prophetic; Tom Riddle, descendant of Salazar Slytherin, pitted against Harry Potter, Godric Gryffindor being one of the only connections to his wizarding family.

In the bed next to him Ron snored peacefully as Harry stared out the window. He didn't wish to have a second prophetic dream. After staying with Luna for five days Hermione had read in the _Daily Prophet_ that a Muggle teenager, Cory Williams, had been found in a private forest on the Williams' property, dead as the Hogwarts' Founders themselves. A photograph of the boy had been provided: he looked exactly like the boy who had been in Harry's dream; he even wore the same clothes!

It was almost one week afterward that Ron, Hermione, and Harry had flagged the Knight Bus a second time, heading to Diagon Alley this time. Harry booked two rooms at the Leaky Cauldron and refilled his money bag at Gringotts immediately afterward.

Ron insisted that they see Fred and George while they were around, since they weren't sure how long they'd be staying. Therefore, as soon as they were able, they stopped by the twins' shop.

"Hey, guys," Fred and George greeted simultaneously.

"Guys, I need you to do something for us," Ron said, getting straight to the point.

"That depends—"Fred started.

"—on how juvenile it is," George finished.

"Trust me, it's _plenty_ juvenile," Hermione supplied.

"Do my ears deceive me?" George demanded skeptically.

"Is Hermione Prefect Granger purposely disobeying the rules for no reason?" Fred continued.

"Oh, there's a _reason_."

"When you see Mum," Ron interrupted, "don't tell her you've seen us. We kind of…er…ran away from home."

"Well, well, well, you three did a twins and took off. Congratulations on coming to join the big boys!" Fred celebrated, punching his fist in the air.

"This is an extremely different case," Harry said, speaking up for the first time. "We need to stay as unnoticed as possible."

"Oooh, I'm trembling in my knickers," George joked, making his knees knock together in mock fright.

"Well, we just wanted to stay hi," Hermione said, plastering a smile on her face.

"Good luck, you two turtle doves," Fred addressed Ron and Hermione, winking in their direction.

The butt ends of the joke blushed, staring at the floor.

"We should…get going, then," Ron muttered, grasping Hermione's hand.

Thus they had exited the shop with Harry, feeling the smirks of the former's brothers all the way to the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry retreated to his and Ron's room instead of remaining downstairs to get some food. He preferred to spend any of his leisure time examining his music box. It was like in his fifth year with the dreams: he was prevented from proceeding right at the point when he was about to get further. Sometimes he used the _Muffliato_ spell on himself if he was going to open it.

He did so now, causing a sound like static to enter his ears. He opened the music box, ignorant of the entrancing music. Everything was as it had been before: the rearing lion on its rotating pedestal; his reflection in the lid's inner mirror; the yellowing bit of parchment sticking up from the crack…

_What the hell?_ Harry gently, yet hastily, removed the platform on which the ferocious cat danced. A folded sheaf of parchment and a small square jewelry box rested underneath.

Harry first unfolded the parchment and read it.

_Dear James,_

_If you ever discover this secret and the secret within the secret I hope you can forgive me for endangering Lily and your child soon to come. This is my last act of redemption before my ex-master comes to inevitably exterminate me. If you ever see my brother again tell him I said, "I told you so." I wish you the best of luck._

_Sincerely yours,_

_R.A.B._

Harry stared at the letter in amazement. The initials of the writer of this note were the same as the person who replaced the locket Horcrux with a fake. And he had a brother who he wished to spite.

He now took the jewelry case and opened it: there it lay. Salazar Slytherin's locket, which Voldemort himself had stolen; lay in mint condition on the pillow.

Replacing the platform and closing the music box, Harry performed the counter spell for _Muffliato_ and took the locket and note downstairs for Ron and Hermione to see.

"Ohmigosh!" Hermione gasped after she read the letter and saw the Horcrux.

"Bloody hell, Harry! This was in the _music box_?" Ron gasped.

"We can't stay here much longer," Harry said, face expressionless. "We need to pay and emergency visit to Hogwarts."

"I agree," Hermione whispered. "We need to learn how to destroy it."

The next day had found Harry arranging transportation for Hogwarts. Flying was out of the question, and Hermione was the only one with an Apparition license, even though Ron suggested to "screw the damn government." If they rode the Knight Bus too often Ernie and Sihoru might get suspicious. They would have to rent Ministry cars, much as Harry resented it.

Later he had borrowed a post owl from Eeylop's Owl Emporium to send a request for one Ministry car. It might be a day before they responded.

However, it was on this point that he found himself mistaken. Two weeks had gone by without a single owl bearing a message for Harry from some department or other. In fact, hardly _any_ owls came at all! It seemed that the Ministry was still intercepting owls, which really pissed Harry off.

He had spent every day waiting expectantly for the owl he had sent to return. For hours on end he had waited, and he left only for bathroom breaks and meals. He left when the shop closed, then waited by the window in his room.

Ron and Hermione worried, wondering if this would bottle up pent-up anger and frustration and make him light up like a firecracker again. They observed him carefully, body language _and _facial expressions, as well as behavior.

An extra week had passed, starting to try at Harry's patience. The Ministry was too damn meddlesome and paranoid. Voldemort's followers were smarter than to relay their secret plans via owl.

Finally, on the third Thursday Harry had prolonged, his owl returned bearing an envelope with the Ministry's seal on it.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_After due consideration, the Department of Magical Transportation has decided to grant you your car under the conditions that you do not need to travel over water and you pay the driver five Galleons every mile. Thank you for your cooperation._

_Marissa Van Doli_

_Department of Magical Transportation_

_Well, _Harry thought, _that's settled, then_.

He had gone up to the Leaky Cauldron to tell Ron and Hermione that transportation had been arranged and they only had to wait a while longer for their car to come.

The couple had no objection to waiting a while longer.

Now Harry lay in bed as he pondered over these memories and emotions. Unable to make sense of it all, he lulled off into a dreamless sleep.

The day the car arrived three days later gave Harry, Ron, and Hermione strong peace of mind because they trusted the Ministry's reliability, if not its major officials.

Piling themselves and their stuff into the car Hermione gave the driver the location.

"Don't know _why_ you didn't just take the train almost a month ago," the driver, a balding man with coke-bottle glasses, said. "What's the emergency? I thought you'd want to _avoid_ Hogwarts as long as possible, what with You-Know-Who back and Dumbledore dead."  
None of them spoke, preferring to say nothing than to alert the chauffeur to suspicious activity. This silence lasted for as long as the driver allowed it to: he was unused to awkward silence when it came to providing transportation for teenagers.

At the end of the day Harry prompted the Ministry official to stop at the nearest inn so they could take shelter for the night. Ready for an excuse not to travel, the man, Kirk Crawford, shut off the engine at a three-story bed & breakfast, so named the Seraph's Wings.

The four strolled casually in and immediately believed they had never discovered a heartier, welcoming place. The windows had not betrayed it, but there were nearly seven people dancing and talking merrily. The light provided by the fireplace and candles and torches flickered dreamily, casting shadows that seemed to follow a preordained path of their own. Despite the other-worldly vibe it emitted, it could still be connected to the present by the posters of wanted witches and wizards and the Ministry of Magic reminders and protection pamphlets.

Set off from the main lobby the quartet observed the breakfast room, as well as the customer service counter and a cherry wood staircase leading to the upper floors.

"Guten nacht, friends! Velcome to the Seraph's Vings!"

Behind the customer service counter stood a woman who might be in her early forties. In the dim light it was difficult to tell her precise age, but her eyes seemed almost a tinted gray and her hair was an aging black. Her nametag read, "My name is Nicole."

Harry led the others to the table and Ms. Nicole.

"How many people can you usually fit into one room?"

"Vier, generally, ven you have the basic package," the German Nicole answered, eyes continuing to reflect the firelight.

"We'll have two rooms for just tonight, then: three in one, a fourth in the second," Harry requested.

"Ja, and that vill be tventy-six Galleons," she priced, waiting for the teenager to dig out the gold he owed.

After counting out the coins and depositing them on the countertop, Ms. Nicole pulled on a rope hanging to her right. A young man in his early twenties descended the stairs and waited for them patiently. All they could distinguish of his features was that his hair was slicked back.

"This way, please," the man greeted, gesturing gracefully with his hand toward the handsome staircase.

They all followed, physical requirements dulling their senses. Stopping on the second floor, their guide opened a door on the left side of the corridor.

"You're room, miss," he announced, bowing slightly.

Hermione stood in the doorway, looking in. Thanking him, she stepped inside and flopped on her twin size bed.

Closing the door the bellboy moved two doors down and opened a second door on the right-hand side of the hall and unlocked it.

"Sirs," he whispered, bowing again.

Harry, Ron, and Mr. Crawford entered the room, charmed at its homey touch. Through the window they could see the waxing crescent moon and the winking stars that scattered across the sky. Three twin-size beds lay professionally arranged throughout the room. Quaint furniture and oil lamps added to the overall beauty. All three were in awe of the charm of the place.

"Good night," their escort bid them, closing the door behind them with a snap.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron breathed, sinking onto the nearest bed. "The Leaky Cauldron's got _nothing_ on these guys!"

Harry said nothing, setting himself on another bed. He withdrew the locket, handling it with his fingertips.

_Something so simple as an accessory, _he thought, _but just so maddeningly important…it's puzzling…_

Again, excess thoughts and words circled his consciousness at it lost attentiveness.

Harry woke around seven o' clock, head swimming with dreams he couldn't remember. Ron and Kirk were still sleeping deeply in their beds, their breathing even. It seemed that Harry was the only one of their party who was disturbed by troubling dreams.

Once again he withdrew the locket and let it hang down from his hand, thinking. There had been something dangerous about all the other Horcruxes. Riddle's diary took the souls of people who wrote in it for too long; and the ring had burned Professor Dumbledore's hand into a charred, shriveled mass. So what could happen to alert Harry to the locket's secrets?

Once could be cursed if they donned it, or there could be something inside to affect the eyes or the brain. A myriad of possibilities had unfolded, and this was why they had to return to Hogwarts: to find someone who could give them more information.

Harry's stomach growled and he caressed it gently, receiving the message that he needed something to sustain himself. Pulling on a change of clothes from his bag, he left his room and walked down to the breakfast room.

Pitchers of hot cocoa and coffee, loaves of bread, trays of doughnuts and bagels, baskets of muffins, all lay arranged on the countertop, enticing any bystander to sink in. Harry eagerly snatched up a plate and commenced with hastily piling up food to satisfy his appetite. He took two of everything he laid eyes on. Sinking into a chair he devoured everything on his dish in a voracious manner. When his plate was spotless he sat back with a contented sigh. Ron was right: this place was paradise comprised to a dingy pub.

He spotted a stack of the _Prophet_ at the customer services desk and took one. On the front page was a photograph of two men. The first had brown highlighted hair and screwed-up teeth. His companion had short, cropped hair and horrible acne all over his face and neck. Their names were Michael Riesselman and Logan Jones, brothers-in-law who had gone missing nearly a week, presumably dead. They resided in the same vicinity, so the authorities had created the assumption that the kidnapper was the same.

"Hi, Harry."

Hermione descended the staircase, sloppily dresses in a tee shirt and jeans. Her shirt was green and said, in white print, "No, you're not." The meaning puzzled him.

"Reading the _Prophet_, are you? No doubt there'll be some new missing persons report."

"Two, actually," Harry corrected, handing her the paper. "Men from the same neighborhood probably connected in some way other than family."

Hermione read the report, a scowl beginning to settle on her face.

"He's starting to get more public every day," she finally said, continuing to study the paper.

"All the more reason to get to Hogwarts as quickly as possible. The sooner we find and destroy all the Horcruxes the sooner Voldemort can die."

More steps resounded as Ron's bare feet became visible of the stairs. He, too, had a green shirt with a message in white print. It read, "I'm a Keeper." Other than this shirt his ensemble was perfectly normal.

Matching shirts…yet another sign that his friends' intimate relationship was growing stronger. He hoped Ron had bought the shirt on account of he had been Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"What all's in the paper today?" Ron asked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"Two men are missing from the neighborhood," Hermione replied, passing him the paper.

Holding the paper a few seconds Ron's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in authentic surprise.

"Bloody hell! Guys, these are top-notch _Ministry officials_! Riesselman is an Unspeakable and Jones is first in his class in the Auror department! What are _these_ two doing missing?"

Worry lines creased their faces as the reality of this information sank in. These men were elite wizards taught skills beyond _N.E.W.T._ level! An Auror and an Unspeak-

able! Ron was right: this news would shock and appall every reader who knew about these people. Time was growing short.

"Eat as fast as you can, and I'll go and wake up Mr. Crawford. We've got to leave as soon as possible."

Ron and Hermione rushed upstairs and burst into the room that he, Ron, and their driver shared. He started shaking Mr. Crawford awake.

"Mr. Crawford…Mr. Crawford…wake up, wake up, we need to leave, _now_!" he urged.

The man groggily heaved himself up on his elbows and yawned widely.

"What's happening?"

"Mr. Crawford, this is an emergency, we have to leave as soon as possible!"

"How's m'hair?" he mumbled.

"MR. CRAWFORD!"

"Where's the fire, boy?"

"We're leaving now."

"Hey, hey, _I _say when we're leaving, so bug off."

"Do you want me to pay you or not?"

Grumbling, Kirk tossed off the sheets and pulled on his shoes. Donning his jacket he exited the room, muttering inaudible words under his breath.

Five minutes and three bad attitudes later they were on the road and heading north to Hogwarts. Several hours passed with stops only for meals and restroom breaks. They eventually reached Hogwarts at almost eleven-thirty in the evening.

Scowling, Kirk jabbed out his hand in impatient expectation. Harry counted out the money he owed the disgruntled driver, thanked him gruffly, and slammed the car door behind Ron and Hermione.

Very few lights shone through the windows. The lake glistened in the moonlight. They doors were barely visible almost five miles down the road. They began their trek up the path to the magnificent castle.

When they reached the oak doors Harry eased them open enough to fit through without inviting too much light. Hogwarts in early October was cool at night. These days the security was sure to be upped, so there was probably no possible way to get to Professor McGonagall's office without running into at least _one_ teacher. Harry withdrew the Invisibility Cloak and cast it over them all.

Creeping through the corridors of Hogwarts at night had become almost a refined art for them, and they slipped quickly into the routine. They tiptoed down the halls, taking as many shortcuts to the office as possible. However, they ran into a complication when they turned into the proper corridor.

A man was patrolling up and down the hall in front of the gargoyle. When he swaggered past a moonlit window his face was illuminated. It was the man who had stopped at his uncle's house. _He_ was a _teacher_...at _Hogwarts_? He had announced himself as Dark…_that_ was enough to doubt his character!

As if sensing Harry's thoughts, Dark snapped his head in their direction, a smirk on his face.

"Why don't you come on out from under that raggedy scrap of cloth, Harry?" he asked, keeping his eyes on them.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged nervous glances.

"Yeah, I can see you, now come on out before I make you."

Suspicious and squinty-eyed, they revealed themselves from under the Invisibility Cloak. Dark's eyes wandered over all three of them for several seconds each. Finally, he spoke again.

"Well, Harry, finally come to see Minerva? It's about time."

Harry glared, mistrusting this lean stranger and everything about him. Hermione and Ron stared at him curiously. Dark turned to the gargoyle and said, "Okonomiyaki."

At once the stone figure sprang to life and leapt aside, revealing the escalator that led to Professor McGonagall's study.

"Shall we?"

Warily, the foursome traversed to the door where Dark knocked three times and entered. Professor McGonagall sat at her desk in a robe and nightcap. A girl with long blonde hair leaned on the side of the desk, muttering to her boss. She wore a black spaghetti-strap top and black cargo pants.

Looking up and seeing Harry she immediately said, "Your father owes my grandmother homework, now where is it?"

The first thing Harry noticed about this woman was that she was an American teenager. The fact that she had been hired made Harry doubt the good professor's sanity.

"Um, uh, er…"

"Well, quit stuttering like a mountain troll, and hand it over," she demanded, hand outstretched.

"Hawkins, please, you are barely two years older than them," Professor McGonagall chastised gently. "We are not at all as straightforward as you."

"Professor," Harry addressed his headmistress, "I went back home."

"Not as straightforward, eh, Minerva?" the woman known as Hawkins scoffed.

"Godric's Hollow?"

Harry nodded.

"Then no doubt you met Luna and Mr. Lovegood. But this isn't what you came halfway across the country to tell me, is it?"

"No, Minerva, it isn't."

Startled, Harry spun around to see who had spoken. He found the portrait of Professor Dumbledore, staring keenly at him through his half-moon glasses.

Ron gave Harry an encouraging nod to get him started.

"Well, I found a few things.

"There's the first and most important: I found Slytherin's locket."

This immediately caught everyone's attention, especially Dumbledore's. He stood swiftly from his portrait's armchair and sifted through several other portraits to see them more clearly.

"There was a message in it from the man who made the switch in the first place," Harry explained, withdrawing it from his bag and reading the note from R.J.B. for everyone to hear.

Dumbledore's eyes glistened when he heard the next to last sentence. After a short silence he finally spoke.

"Regulus…Regulus Black made the switch."

This conclusion was so unexpected that even Harry's face was contorted with horrid surprise.

"But there are more pressing matters at hand," he continued. "Harry, give the locket to Professor Mousy here." He gestured to Dark.

Ron barely stifled a snicker.

Smirking, Dark snatched the necklace from Harry's hand and inspected it. Harry eyed him warily. After a time he, too, began to speak.

"It's a shame to have to destroy such a flawless piece of art. But, if I must…"

With a pained sigh he withdrew a dark feather from his pocket, opened the locket, and put the feather inside. He began to mutter words under his breath and the jewelry burst into flames, falling to a pile of ashes on the floor. Suddenly, Dark convulsed, clutching his stomach in pain. He fell to his knees, shaking uncontrollably. He started getting shorter, and his hair started turning red, and the clothes were too big, all of a sudden.

The boy Harry had seen Dark transform into on Privet Drive trembled before him. Except now he was surprised and afraid. His arms moved from around his stomach to around his chest.

Hawkins walked around them and pulled Daisuke's left arm around her shoulder, acting as a human crutch. Seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione stare at him with concern he smiled weakly.

"When Dark works major magic it causes injury to my body, so we try to save the major stuff for classes and emergencies. This is nothing rest can't fix. Don't worry about me."

Hawkins led him to an empty chair and set him down gently.

"Harry…" Dumbledore called. Harry turned back to Dumbledore's portrait. "Now that the locket has been destroyed we must find the other Horcrux. After this one has been found and annihilated you must find Voldemort and his snake Nagini."

Harry nodded. "Do you have any leads, sir?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "None so far, but it's best to keep your eyes peeled."

"Does this mean you won't force me to stay?"

"Yes, it does, but you are always welcome to complete your last year here, when you aren't busy."

Harry nodded. "Sir…seeing as it's so late…er, do you mind us staying the night?"

"I believe you should ask Professor McGonagall. After all, _she_ is headmistress, not I."

Harry turned to Professor McGonagall. "I'm sorry. May we have your permission to spend the night?"

"Of course, Potter."

"You're comin' with _me_, girl," Hawkins snapped, grabbing Hermione by the arm and dragging her out of the headmistress's office.

Daisuke looked up from his reverie, eyes bright and smile wide.

"You can sleep in Dark's office," he offered. "We sleep in the Gryffindor dormitory."

Harry chose not to say that he was in Gryffindor, too. It didn't seem like an appropriate time to do so.

Muttering words of thanks, Harry and Ron left the office and went to sleep in Dark's office.


	7. TeteATete and Reflection

_He's not as hopeless as I thought_, Dark said wearily.

_I'm surprised you're not asleep, Dark._

Daisuke was making his way up to the seventh floor. Often he had to lean on a suit of armor for a bit to catch his breath. That's how exhausted he was.

_I'm surprised you haven't collapsed._

_Trust me, I'm close to it._

He made his way through several shortcuts he had found, but that didn't make his ascent any easier. The effort he used caused pain in his knees and thighs.

_I don't want that guy messing up my office._

_Why? You don't use it, anyway, plus, you could care less what people think about you._

Dark scoffed.

Such discussions continued between them all the way up to the seventh floor. The Fat Lady was snoring obnoxiously loud in her frame. Daisuke gently prodded her awake and gave the password.

"Of all the nerve," she snapped wearily, "who do you think you are, waking me up in the middle of the night?"

Daisuke spared his breath and climbed through the portrait hole clumsily.

_The last staircase…_

He shuffled up, step after step; his footfalls sounded like dull hammers on the stone. His eyelids began to droop as weariness swirled around and threatened to consume his consciousness. Darkness clouded his vision.

When he woke up he was in an unfamiliar place. Bright sunlight streamed through open windows. His sheets were a different color that those in his dormitory. Also, Venus, Riku, and Chris were standing on either side of him, eyes filled with worry.

"I found you unconscious on the stairs. Scare the _hell_ outta me, why don't you, mate?" Chris snapped.

"I'm sorry, Chris-kun."

"Daisuke, what happened?" Riku asked, clutching his hand.

_Don't tell her the truth, Daisuke!_

_I know…_

"I just…fell on the stairs on my way back from the bathroom. Don't worry," he assured her, smiling.

"Are you feeling better, Daisuke?" Venus asked, swooping in close to his face.

Daisuke stared at her wide-eyed. This girl was strange.

"Uh…yeah?"

"Great!"

"In fact, I'm good enough to go to class."

"Daisuke," Chris sighed, "this is _Saturday_."

Daisuke blushed, and then worry began to cloud his mind.

_If today is Saturday then Harry and Ron might not be able to leave the office unnoticed._

_Ooooooh, damn._

Daisuke tossed off his sheets and scrambled to find a robe and a pair of slippers. On instinct, Chris leapt on top of his friend and wrestled him.

"I…I…I've…gotta go to the _bathroom_," Daisuke lied nervously.

_Oh, yeah, Daisuke, you're a Phantom Thief, and you can't even think up a good _lie_? That's pathetic!_

"Oh…sorry, mate," Chris apologized.

In his head, Daisuke could literally feel Dark's mouth drop open in appalled shock. Feigning urgency, Daisuke whipped on his robe and slippers and rushed out the infirmary door.

_That was one of the biggest miracles in a long history of miracles that I am _very_ familiar with!_

_Wiz!_ Daisuke called.

Wiz flew in an open window in almost three seconds.

"Change into me, wait a few a minute, then go back to the hospital wing and lie down in the bed Riku is at."

"Kyuuuuuuuu!"

Wiz transformed, then took Daisuke's robe and slippers, and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a careless smile on his face.

Daisuke shot away as fast as he could in the direction of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He dashed through doors and tapestries, encountering nobody. Finally he reached his destination and thrust open the final door, breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

Ron was sleeping on the teacher's bed, snoring gently. Harry was sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the grounds in what appeared to be longing. The sunlight was catching his eyes and glasses, making it difficult for Daisuke to look at the guy without squinting.

However, Harry turned Daisuke's way and the moment passed. He pressed a finger to his lips and nodded at Ron. He got off the windowsill and motioned to the door. Daisuke followed, closing the door behind him.

"I found my uncle's _Starry Night_ under the bed," Harry noted, laughing. "He was so obsessed with that stupid painting; I figure he's got everybody in England looking for you."

Daisuke laughed, feeling relieved that Harry at least had a sense of humor.

"There is one thing I'd like to ask, though: if you knew where I lived and the people I live with, what made you come?"

"I can't control Dark's actions once he's taken control," Daisuke admitted after a short silence. "I can only know what he's doing. He wanted to meet you and your family with a big entrance…and exit."

Harry laughed again, and Daisuke remembered why he had come.

"I don't think it'd be a good idea for you to leave the office yet," he warned.

"Yeah, the weekends are pretty popular, all right," Harry replied.

More silence…then…

"Why'd you take this job? Nobody's lasted longer than a year ever since Voldemort applied for the same position."

"I guess Dark wanted to get further with his other job. It's a good thing my mom didn't come, though; otherwise we'd have an assignment every night.

"Is she back in Japan?"

Daisuke nodded.

"What's she like?"

_Go on, Daisuke. Tell him how crazy she can be._

Daisuke smiled.

"She can be a little weird, at times. She collects the artwork the Niwas have stolen over the years. Then again, the girls don't have that Y chromosome, so she grew up not getting to experience what it's like to _be_ Dark, so…"

Harry nodded, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I think I'd better get back. I left Wiz with a few friends in the hospital wing.

"Um, Daisuke, about last night—"

"It's just a few scrapes and bruises, nothing more."

Giving him a warm smile, Daisuke made his way back to the hospital wing, tripping over a suit of armor on the second floor.

Madam Pomfrey, being the stern nurse that she is, kept Daisuke until Sunday morning, and she still insisted on giving him a final check-up before releasing him.

_What a pain,_ Dark scoffed, _being forced to take a full day to recover from a small overdose of magic._

_Oh, really? You seemed to be sleeping okay to me._

_Shut up!_

Daisuke smiled stretching out under the tree by the lake. As he looked in the glassy surface of the water he remembered the meeting at Professor McGonagall's office the previous night.

Dark leaned against the wall in Minerva's office with his arms crossed. Hawkins stood in jeans and a T-shirt with her hands on her hips. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in a line by Dumbledore's portrait. Minerva sat at her desk, and Wiz was sitting on a pile of papers, eyes bright.

"Well," Minerva started, "you all know why we are here, so I don't have to explain anything."

"Alas, I hate to interrupt you, Minerva," Dumbledore interjected, "but I do."

"I am aware that in my current state my research ability is limited, but I'm still able to travel to all the other numerous photographs of myself. This way I have been able to communicate with members of the Order, and since you are all of age I believe you are mature enough to know what they know.

"Now that Voldemort is out he has been moving in secret to develop an army of wizards and magical creatures that are undervalued in our world. This is common knowledge. Giants and dementors are their main targets: again, obvious. But what most people don't know is that Voldemort is also attempting to persuade families with house elves to join them."

_House elves_…Dark knew of them. They did the cooking and cleaning around Hogwarts.

"Right," Harry muttered. "They have to follow any order they're given."

"Precisely, Harry. They make the perfect spies, and if they are caught their masters can claim that the elf was starting to rebel, despite the fact that the elf is supposed to serve that family until death or freedom."

Suddenly, Dark was struck with an interesting thought.

"Do Riesselman and Jones have house elves?"

Hermione, Ron, and Harry turned to look at him, eyes betraying their thoughts.

"It would make sense," Hawkins said, staring at the floor. "It gives them another, more understandable connection other than being brothers-in-law with high Ministry connections."

"How many other men from wealthy families have gone missing?" Hermione addressed Albus and Minerva.

Dark could see Minerva analyzing the missing persons reports in her head.

"At least five, for certain," she finally summarized.

"Who are they?" Dark asked.

"David Dorset, Adam Cross, Harold Wilkins, Travis Hayes, and Edgar Allen."

"Wilkins?"

"Yes, Harold Wilkins is Christopher Wilkins' grandfather. He owns a magnificent estate in the countryside just outside London. Probably the only reason Christopher has never told you about his grandfather is because Harold disinherited his own son for marrying the woman he did."

"I taught Harold and his son myself," Dumbledore added. "They came to Hogwarts only in the finest robes, always wearing some expensive trinket or antique of some sort or other."

"Anyway," Minerva interrupted, "someone as wealthy as Harold no doubt has several house elves at his beck and call. It's no wonder the Death Eaters would be after him."

"We know about Voldemort's plan now," Harry interceded. "But what about the Horcruxes?"

"Sirius' brother knew where the locket was and doubtless did enough searching to find the others still out there. However, his being dead has complicated things to an unfortunate level, and the only other person who could also have told us anything is also deceased. We are at a dead end," Dumbledore said.

For a moment everyone seemed depressed, and then Hermione perked up.

"That's not true, Professor. There is _one_ person who could tell us about Regulus…_Kreacher_."

Dark was confused as Daisuke. Neither of them had ever heard of this "Kreacher." Apparently, though, they were about to find out.

"Are you mad, Hermione?" Ron snapped, speaking up for the first time. "Even if he _is_ bound to serve Harry, there's no way he would help _us_. He thinks we're bloody scum, particularly _you_, Hermione, remember?"

"I see where your logic is coming from, Ronald," Dumbledore said. "However, as you say, Kreacher _is_ bound to serve Harry, seeing as Sirius left the elf to him."

"Fine, we can ask him, but I doubt it'll be any help," Harry said disgruntled. "Kreacher, come here!"

A whiplike crack disturbed the air, and a withered house elf stood before them. All he wore was a ragged loincloth, and he was as wrinkled as an old prune. His appearance made Hawkins flinch. Apparently, this was Kreacher.

"You called, Master?" he asked in a wheezy voice. He didn't conceal the fact that he was annoyed at being woken in the middle of the night.

"Tell us everything you know about Regulus Black: no lies, half-truths, or semi-truths, just straight-out fact, you understand?"

"Master asks if Kreacher understands, Master who spends time in the company of Mudbloods and Muggle lovers, the treacherous scum…"

"_Do you understand?_"

"Yes, Master, Kreacher understands."

"Get to it, then."

"Master Regulus was born on November the twenty-first in 1971…"

"Kreacher, tell us about Regulus' life as a Death Eater," Harry interrupted.

"Very well, Master, but Kreacher knows little. Master Regulus was a Death Eater for almost a year before my poor mistress found out. She didn't really care, but she always liked to talk about it at parties.

"The Dark Lord, as far as I knew, often gave Master Regulus assignments having to do with disposing of information and memories. Mainly he would use Memory Charms to permanently remove memories from people the Dark Lord controlled and manipulated. He came back home one day different, so he must have retrieved a memory that greatly shook him."

"Did he ever talk to you about it?" Harry asked.

"Kreacher is but a lowly servant," the elf replied. "Master Regulus didn't take to conversing with Kreacher."

"I can see why," Ron muttered.

"What is the filthy Muggle lover whispering, Kreacher wonders? No doubt the slime is insulting Master Regulus, my mistress' favorite son, bless her lonely soul…"

"Kreacher," Harry snapped, "get back to Regulus."

"Very well, Master. Anyway, Master Regulus was always different after that day. He always looked at things differently, although my mistress never noticed.

"Yet Master Regulus continued to work for the Dark Lord: he feared he would be killed otherwise."

"How long did this go on?" Harry inquired.

"As far as Kreacher knows, just under a year. After that Master Regulus started coming home less often, and when he did come home he was always haggard-looking and exhausted. Shortly after _that_ Kreacher heard that he had gone missing.

"Another few months passed and everyone presumed Master Regulus dead, and they were correct. They found his body on a deserted cove at low tide. I attended his funeral with my mistress, watching from quite a distance, of course. I had never seen my mistress more stricken with grief."

A silence followed this summarized documentary of Regulus Black's secret identity, but through it all the gears in Dark's and Daisuke's heads reeled.

_No doubt Black was on the run from the Voldemud the months he was missing_, Dark deduced.

_From what I could tell about this Dark Lord guy_, Daisuke said,_ he can't be deceived so easily, as some people know. So how can Regulus have stayed away from this guy for _three months

_Voldy could have captured Regulus at one point and tortured him as revenge before finishing him off._

_How does that explain him winding up on a beach cove?_

"Do you know which cove, Kreacher?" Harry asked.

"No, Master, Kreacher doesn't know."

"Go away, then."

With a scowl and a loud _CRACK!_ Kreacher vanished, leaving behind a wispy trail of smoke.

"Har_ry_," Hermione whined, "you _could_ have at least _thanked_ him."

"To me," Hawkins said, "it seems that this Regulus guy coulda been doin' somethin' other 'n hidin' the months he was missin'."

"Noted, Hawkins," Dumbledore acknowledged, "but further inquiries into the mystery of his absence may reveal otherwise."

"Should we go back to the cove where we found the fake locket?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry, you shouldn't. When I was searching for locket's chamber in that cave I used some of the strongest uncovering spells I know. There's nothing else there.

"Helga Hufflepuff's cup is the most important objective for us to focus on right now. As Harry and I have discussed it is doubtless another of Voldemort's bits of soul. However, the place he might have concealed it is not so obvious, seeing how there are many places critical in Voldemort's life. A good place to start, though, would be Borgin and Burkes, the shop at which he worked when he stole the cup in question."

"Professor," Harry interrupted, "you said the shop had never acquired the cup, and Voldemort resigned afterwards. Why would the cup be there?"

"Come on, kid, use yer head," Hawkins snapped. "Just cuz the shop _said_ Voldy never brought it in doesn't mean he couldn't've hidden it there under their noses. They would never know it was there unless told, and there's no chance of _that_, now, _is_ there?"

"Precisely, Hawkins, precisely," Dumbledore agreed.

_Heheh_, Dark chuckled. _I like this girl: she's sharp._

Daisuke moaned. _You couldn't tell from her Potions classes?_

"Is Scrimgeour still really tight about Portkeys?" Harry asked.

"Potter, I doubt giving them an unexpected night visit will convince them to let you see their private stores," Professor McGonagall interjected.

"Professor McGonagall is right," Dumbledore agreed. "Harry, Ronald, Hermione, wait until all the students have gone to class, then come up in you Invisibility Cloak with your things and something to use as a Portkey. You will visit the shop _then_, and I will tell you what to say to them."

"Right," the three friends replied.

"You may go to bed, now," Professor McGonagall informed them, shooing them with a flick of her wrist.

Looking back on this meeting, Daisuke received an ominous feeling about the next few late November days and the events they held in store for the "Horcrux conspiracy," as Dark liked to call it.

"What's wrong, Daisuke?"

Riku's voice snatched his attention on her worried face.

"You've been zoning in and out ever since we came here. Is there something, _anything_, you want to talk to me about?"

Her intriguing, inquiring eyes captivated him as they sat close together under the lakeside tree. Daisuke flashed his warm trademark smile.

"No, I'm fine."

"Geez, you two, get a room, will you?" Chris snapped in disgust, chunking a small pebble at Daisuke's head.

"Honestly," Venus agreed, "you may be fourteen, but we're eleven still, and not all eleven-year-olds are desensitized to romance."

Smiling, Daisuke apologized.

_Hey, don't let those brats tell you how to handle Riku! You may not look it, but you've got three years on them, and it's about time they grow up anyway!_

_Dark, if I followed all the advice you gave me we'd both be in jail._

_Nuh-uh! We'd've broken out after two minutes tops!_

_Whatever!_


	8. Encounters with Unexpected People

**Sorry for the delay! Had trouble getting inspiration, but now there IS AN EIGHTH CHAPTERRRRRRRRRRRRRR!**

Harry stared out the Defense Against the Dark Arts office window that night, contemplating the information his deranged house elf had shared. Regulus, Sirius' brother, the Death Eater, had been working to thwart Voldemort for the last of his tainted allegiance to him. He had discovered the secrets of Voldemort's soul pieces concealed in Horcruxes somehow and set out to destroy them: his "last act of redemption."

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Harry," he heard Ron say, "we have to get up early to go to McGonagall's study."

"No, we don't," Harry argued. "Dumbledore said after classes started."

"Don't forget that we have to pick up Hermione. And…" Harry looked at Ron curiously. "…I want to see how Ginny's doing."

Ron had voiced the one desire Harry had known since seeing Hogwarts from the lakeside nearly two or three nights ago. Harry's break-up with Ginny had painful for them both: what's more, he still loved her.

"Right, then," he said after a moment and crawled under the desk while Ron slept on the bed.

_The music box's lulling melody teased his ears as he stood on the surface of the lake. He looked at his reflection, and it was not his own: Ginny's face stared at him with warmth and love. Her lips formed words that came out only murmurs._

_Suddenly, an invisible force of great force gripped and seized him, pulling him into the beautiful sky and away from the woman he loved._

_In an instant he collapsed on a small cobblestone street. His knees ached from the force with which he crashed to the stone. When he looked up he saw the shop of Borgin and Burkes before him. He reached out to turn the door handle, but his hand miraculously passed through as though it belonged to a phantom. Therefore, he walked straight into the shop._

_Seeing the counter and the items in glass cases, the closet which Malfoy had used in the raid on Hogwarts earlier in the year reawakened a burdening flow of memories full of pain and loss. However, he forced himself to push the emotions aside and plunge further into the shop._

_He walked around the clerk's counter and into the back of the store. Shelves mounted on the walls held items that seemed more sinister and dangerous than the ones on display. More closets and cupboards lined the walls here, but Harry trudged on as if searching for something of which he knew the location._

_His head swiveled from left to right, inspecting his surroundings, until he caught sight of a magnificent painting. There were no windows in the storage area, yet Harry saw it as clearly and vividly as if he were viewing it in sunlight. Its subject was a side profile view of a woman drinking from a magnificent gold cup. Her hair was raven black and flowing, her eyes closed. In the background were a woman and two men, one of whom looked vaguely familiar to Harry. He had a flowing beard and deep penetrating eyes._

_One fact about this painting was curious to Harry: the subjects were not moving as was custom with wizard photographs and paintings. Suddenly, as if defying him, the woman drinking from the cup looked at him and spoke._

_"BEHIND!"_

Harry's eyes flashed open in surprise. He sat abruptly and bumped his head on the bottom of the desk which he had forgotten he was sleeping under. Sudden pain clapped his forehead like red-hot tongs, and he clutched his scar.

_Damn Voldemort, damn dreams…I need to start making some of that dreamless sleep potion…_

Hours later it was the school's breakfast time; and Harry and Ron took their things, covered themselves with the Invisibility Cloak, and made their way to the Great Hall.

They were startled by the sight that greeted them. The professors had failed to mention that the student population had dwindled, even if it was just to the extent that it didn't matter. There were empty places at every table, especially at the Slytherin table.

Harry searched the Gryffindor table for Ginny and instantly spotted her by her red hair. She was surrounded by a group of boys and girls alike, yet she didn't seem her usual self: she looked depressed in a way.

She suddenly looked wildly around as if she sensed something dangerous. It was almost as if she could tell she was being watched; but that wasn't possible…was it?

Ron nudged Harry with his elbow and pointed at the High Table. Professor McGonagall sat in the center chair, a sight that was strange to them after six years of Dumbledore being headmaster. Also, they saw Dark staring at the place they stood hidden: that must be Daisuke as Dark.

Looking at Dark himself he was very out of place: he wore no robes, just black pants and a tank top. His _hair_ was _purple_! Hawkins, though, could have appeared _more_ misplaced. As a witch, yes, she wore robes, but she was even more young-looking than Dark; she was blonde; she was _American_!

Ron could barely stifle a snicker at the sight of those two sitting at the High Table with a bunch of old people. Apparently, he was also unaccustomed to foreigners at Hogwarts, even after the Triwizard Tournament.

They continued to observe breakfastime in the Great Hall until a large mass of students made to leave for class. At this point Ron and Harry beat them to the entrance hall and rushed down to the dungeon in which Potions was held and back into Hawkins's office.

As strange as Harry and Ron knew Hawkins was her office was stranger still. Several posters hung on the walls that weren't occupied with shelves that held potion ingredients. They depicted famous American movie stars and movie titles: some were posters for Japanese anime movies. There was _Spirited Away_ and _Howl's Moving Castle_ by Hayao Miyazaki; _Underworld _and _Underworld: Evolution_ with Kate Beckinsale; and _Men in Black_ and _Men in Black II_ with Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, "Hermione, come on out."

Hermione appeared from under Hawkins' desk, looking flustered.

Ron showed his face from beneath the Invisibility Cloak and said, "Get your stuff and come on, we've gotta go meet Dumbledore."

What with students attending their classes the corridors were nearly empty. Harry, Ron, and Hermione passed only a few ghosts on their way to Professor McGonagall's office. Remembering the password Dark had given the night of their arrival, Harry muttered the word for Japanese pizza, and the gargoyle obediently sprang to life and leapt aside. They climbed the escalating staircase and entered the headmistress' office without knocking.

The room was deserted, as they knew it would be. Therefore, they removed the Invisibility Cloak and approached Dumbledore's portrait where he was waiting patiently in his armchair.

"Ah, you've come," he greeted them. "Now we can proceed."

"Professor," Hermione interjected, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Ask away, then, Miss Granger."

"Sir, why hasn't Borgin been arrested?"

A short silence followed this inquiry.

"Apparently, it is because Borgin was held under a threat that he didn't know was viable," Dumbledore answered. "Harry, do you have your Portkey object?"

Harry dug out from his bag an empty potion bottle he had snagged from Hawkins's office, but before Dumbledore could tell him what to do he spoke.

"Sir, I had a dream last night that I think you might want to know about."

Ron and Hermione stared, whereas Dumbledore's twinkled over his half-moon glasses.

"Well, then, why don't you tell us about it?"

With Dumbledore's invitation Harry reiterated his dream to the previous headmaster. When he finished he had something to say.

"I think the people in the painting were the four Hogwarts founders."

Dumbledore said nothing for a while; he only kept watching Harry.

"Your dream," he finally said, "may or may not be interpretive. However, as with previous dreams, I think it unwise for you to linger over them.

"Now, tap the bottle with your wand and say _Portus_ while picturing Borgin and Burkes in your mind."

Harry did what he was told.

"When you arrive you might find things different, you might not. All you need to remember is to be cautious."

The trio nodded.

"Off you go."

They each put a finger on the Portkey, felt the familiar jerk behind their navels, and whooshed off.

After a minute of swirling, stomach-churning color Harry, Ron, and Hermione toppled over on Knockturn Alley, where the sun shone dully and shadows seemed to lie in wait for not-so-innocent passersby. In front of them stood Borgin and Burkes looking abandoned and destitute.

"Do you suppose it's still in business?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Ron answered, "but if it is, Borgin's Slytherin qualities aren't helping him out much, are they?"

Harry didn't speak. He was too busy peering into the shop window, searching for any signs of life inside. As far as he could see there was no discernible movement, but he knew from experience that the shop was rarely well lit.

"It's locked."

Harry turned and found Ron at the door with his hand on the knob. Withdrawing his wand, Ron pointed it at the lock.

"_Alohamora!_"

The lock emitted a barely audible _click!_ and swung open. Harry and Hermione followed Ron in.

The store was much like it once was. It was still a gloomy-looking place, dark and dank. The only differences there seemed to be were a thicker layer of dust, the cursed necklace case was empty, and the Vanishing Cabinet was gone—probably confis-

cated by the Ministry.

Harry drew out his wand and heard Hermione do the same.

"_Lumos!_" all three muttered, and their wands ignited.

The light provided by their wands aided them in their search for magically-hidden niches that could be used to hide an object as powerful as the chalice owned by Helga Hufflepuff.

Harry, acting on a whim, ventured behind the clerk counter and into the back room. It was absolutely _nothing_ like he had seen in his dream. Instead of tidily organized the place had various items scattered precariously all across the floor. There was no storage space to hold it all in. Why would Voldemort want to hide a Horcrux in this _dump_?

As if hoping to find more conspicuous clues, Harry started eyeing the walls. They were almost as dusty and disregarded as the rest of the shop. However, one object seemed to have received more care and attention than any other. It was the painting Harry had seen in his dream, exactly as he had seen it, except it was moving.

"Ron, Hermione, come here and look at this!" he bellowed.

His friends came sprinting, stepping carefully over the paraphernalia littering the floor. When they reached Harry he acknowledged the work of art.

The two men in the background where bickering vexedly, animatedly, but the two women sat calmly, paying more attention to their plates than to their squabbling companions.

"Er," Harry began slowly, "excuse me?"

All four adults looked at him, the men's faces looking hot and angry.

"What be troubling thy young minds, fair children?" asked the woman closer to the men. Her straight brown hair was fairly combed, framing her oval face. Two sparkling sky-blue eyes shone on them with shrewd kindness.

"Are, are you Rowena Ravenclaw?" stammered Harry.

"Yes, dark-haired knight, that is the name by which I am called."

Ron sniggered behind Harry, who blushed.

"Dear Godric," said Rowena, "this strapping young gentleman is a near-split reflection of yourself. Don't you agree?"

She was looking to the beardless man, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron all let slip a shocked gasp.

"Harry?" Ron whispered. "I live with Fred and George, so I'm used to seeing double, but _this_ is just not _normal_."

Harry agreed wholeheartedly with Ron. Godric Gryffindor looked to him as a thirty-year-old version of himself. Though there were no glasses and his eyes were completely different the similarities were obvious. Harry's ancestors had wild black hair, though it was pulled back into a poor attempt at a ponytail. Also, he seemed to have a slightly stockier build. Other than that, plus the lack of a lightning scar, they could almost be brothers.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, "show him the music box."

Digging into his pack, Harry withdrew the heirloom. Godric came around the table to gaze at what was once his.

"Where didst thou discover this, young sir?"

Harry gulped. Speaking to his famous ancestor was making him nervous.

"I-In the ruins of my old home."

Godric's eyes attached themselves to Harry.  
"Then you must be—"

"Harry Potter!"

Harry looked at the other man and recognized him from his statue in the Chamber of Secrets: Salazar Slytherin. Slytherin had spat Harry's name in disgust, and Harry thought he knew why.

"Now, see here, Salazar—"

"Godric, _don't_ try to convince me otherwise on my opinion of filthy Muggle-tainted families! They are of a lower class than us purebloods. Better to die proudly pure than associate with _their_ kind."

"Oi!" Ron snapped. "You, Slytherin, shut up! Just because someone is Muggle-born doesn't mean they can't be good witches and wizards!"

Hermione blushed.

"Yeah," Harry joined in, "take my mum. She's Muggle-born and she was best in her year when_ she _was at Hogwarts. And there's Hermione, too."

The Parselmouth in the painting looked at Hermione and wrinkled his nose at her.

"I thought I smelled something."

Outraged, Ron made an obscene gesture at Slytherin that made Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff gasp. Gryffindor, though, just barely stifled a chuckle Slytherin's face contorted into a mask of fury and rage that actually looked quite comical.

"Look," Harry interjected, "we could argue about this all day, but we're looking for something important."

"A quest, is it?" Godric asked. "For what are you searching?"

Harry turned to look at Helga Hufflepuff.

"It's what you're drinking from."

Helga gave her goblet a thorough going-over then looked at Harry.

"Young man," she said, "do you mean to tell me that the one heirloom of mine left is in an unknown location and being used for evil purposes?"

"Yes. It is a Horcrux that is housing a part of Voldemort's tainted soul."

Gasps erupted from all but Slytherin, which wasn't surprising. After all, he _was_ Voldemort's forefather.

"Do you think," Harry inquired, "that you might be able to sense where it is?"

Hufflepuff considered all three teenagers for a minute or two. Or at least, that's what _they_ thought she was doing until she spoke.

"There are a few places in Britain where strong concealment and warding spells are woven. I suspect from the ancient power behind them that the magic belongs to young Salazar's heir. It is in those places, undoubtedly, that you will find what you are looking for."

"Can you give us some approximation?" Hermione asked.

"Well, of course I can, young lady. One is in a place we all know very well."

After a minute Ron spoke skeptically.

"Oh, you've _got_ to be _joking_."

Helga's eyes sparkled warmly.

"The other is in an area that was simple farmland in my time. Now, though, it seems to be a small village close to a modest city. I'm sorry, but I can't seem to get a name."

Giving her their condolences and thanking her for her time Ron, Hermione, and Harry hastened to leave. Before they took five steps, however, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff both called them back.

Hufflepuff spoke first.

"Please, young sirs and gentle lady, if you can just grant me with one wish: if there is a way to remove that tattered soul from my goblet without destroying it please you it."

Rowena, ensuring that her friend had nothing more to say, spoke to the threesome next.

"I must tell you that at the village dear Helga mentioned is something of mine. I can sense the vibrations coming from it even though it is sealed away. I have simply the same request as Helga: try not to destroy it when you remove the soul part.

"We'll see what we can do," Harry assured them both.

Leaving the shop, Ron, Harry, and Hermione returned to the Portkey.

"One, two…" Harry counted, "_three_."

They all grabbed the potion bottle simultaneously and went whirling off into space. Mere seconds later, they landed on the floor of Professor McGonagall's office.

"The mission produced fruitful results, I hope?"


	9. Return to the Chamber

_That kid had better think he's lucky that I'm the only member of staff that can see through those Invisibility Cloaks._

Dark was sitting at the High Table with the other teachers at breakfast, staring at the spot where Harry and Ron stood almost hidden. He had also seen the girl they were watching: the one who seemed to sense a stalker. He smirked.

_Potter's got a lover._

Daisuke groaned.

_Why do you always have to make things sound so dirty?_

_It's a talent._

_You call that a talent?_

Dark continued eating in a satisfied silence. At several intervals he though he could feel the eyes of several people staring at him.

_Jealous guys or love struck girls, I wonder?_

_You're horrible._

At the end of breakfast Dark departed and made for his first class. When he was halfway there he was hailed by a sixth-year girl just coming out of the bathroom.

"U-Um, P-Professor Mousy, I-I have something to give you."

Pretending to be coy, Dark gave her a teacher-ish remark.

"If it's about the essay I assigned you it's still due today."

"N-No, sir, it isn't that."

The girl began fumbling in her bag.

_Dark, you're the most horrible person I know!_

Finally, the girl withdrew a folded sheaf of parchment and held it out to Dark, head bowed in embarrassment.

"P-Please, just read it. I'll understand if you don't appreciate what's inside, but I'll feel better nonetheless that you've read it."

Dark took the note and the girl immediately ran off in the opposite direction. Smirking, Dark unfolded it and began to read.

_Professor Mousy,_

_I will not beat about the bush…_

_Here it comes_, Dark thought.

_I hate you. Your playboy attitude and player personality make me sick. No doubt you are used to girls fawning all over wherever you go, but I just want you to know that not _all_ of us are fooled by your deceiving charms._

_Sheila Patterson_

_You needed to be told at one point_, Daisuke pointed out.

Dark was slightly shocked. So the hesitancy served one of two reasons: to put him off guard or fear of his anger.

_She's almost exactly like an older English Riku._

The rest of the day wasn't _quite_ so dramatic. Dark taught a few classes then let Daisuke take over and go back to redo the hours. Both were tired by dinnertime, but they knew they would need to go to the headmistress' office later, so they slept in their spare time.

When the common room emptied that night Daisuke turned to Dark and trekked the familiar path to the gargoyle-guarded office. Giving the password and ascending the staircase, he entered the haven without announcing himself.

"Ah, Dark, delighted you could join us."

Professor Dumbledore's voice drifted toward Dark from his portrait. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting on the floor in front of Professor McGonagall's desk. Hawkins was leaning against the wall opposite Dumbledore's portrait, whereas Minerva was close to it as if she had been talking to him a moment before.

The three friends looked up at Dark with almost expressionless faces.

"So, what's with the death mask trio?"

_Dark, you idiot…_

"There's a Horcrux here at Hogwarts," Harry replied, looking Dark straight in the eye.

"The question," Dumbledore said, "is where he could have hidden it."

"There are too many places to search them all," Hermione said.

"On the contrary, Miss Granger, there are a very few amount of caches for Voldemort's purposes. Don't forget that he has chosen places significant to both his past and his heritage."

"He was a Slytherin, wasn' 'e?" Hawkins asked.

"Indeed, he was. Just knowing _that_ slims down our list considerably. There could be a hidden chamber in the Slytherin common room or maybe in the dungeon where he framed a student for opening the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" asked Dark.

"It's a place beneath the castle," Ron said. "There was a basilisk down there that You-Know-Who set on the Muggle-borns. He was the only one who could control it because he was the Heir of Slytherin."

"Correct," Dumbledore confirmed. "A Muggle-born died the first time it happened fifty-five years ago."

"There was a second time?"

"Yeah, five years ago," Harry said, "when Voldemort used someone else to do his dirty work for him."

Dark caught an extra stint of hatred and saw Ron and Hermione's mouths deepen in a frown.

"Well," Hawkins asked, "could the Horcrux be in _there_—in the Chamber of Secrets?"

Professor McGonagall's neck cricked as her head snapped toward Hawkins.

"That is a possibility," she said stiffly.

"I am assuming," Dark said, "that for some reason you don't want us to go down there. That's pretty strange, in my opinion, because I also assumed that the beast was dead."

"It is," Harry said, pointing to a sword in a glass case. "That sword is stained with its blood."

Looking at the blade, Dark saw that Harry was right.

_How does he know that?_ Daisuke wondered. _If it weren't for our training I wouldn't be able to see it._

"Were you the one who killed it?" Dark inquired.

Harry nodded.

"I could go down," he said. "Only a Parselmouth can enter the Chamber."

"I'm going down, too," Dark demanded. "I can tell you where there are places hidden by magic."

"That would probably be for the best," Professor McGonagall sighed.

"Then let's get going," Dark said.

Harry stooped hidden under his Invisibility Cloak as Dark followed him to the second floor corridor. The teenager followed his path on the Marauder's Map, taking secret passageways to avoid Filch, Peeves, Mrs. Norris, and the teachers. Finally they arrived at the familiar OUT OF ORDER sign, ignored it, and passed through.

Moans, sobs, and whimpers greeted them, coming from Moaning Myrtle's stall. However, as soon as the door closed, she drifted out of it with a somber look on her face.

"Oh, it's _you_, Dark…and you, too, Harry!" Her face immediately looked cheerier. "What do you want?"

"We're going back down, Myrtle," said Harry as he removed his Invisibility Cloak.

As quickly as the ghost's expression had changed, a spark flashed in her face and a deep scowl replaced her temporary smile.

"Why? The basilisk is dead."

"This," Dark said, "is a completely different mission."

Scowl slightly lessened, Myrtle drifted back to her stall to moan and groan in peace.

Harry turned to the sinks that lined the wall and found the serpent engraving that marked the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

"Open up!" he commanded, hearing the familiar hisses of the snake language issuing from his mouth.

As it had happened five years ago, so it occurred now: the pipes and sinks rearranged themselves to reveal a thick pipe, wide enough for a man to sit inside.

"Let's go," he said, sliding himself in and letting go.

Once again he felt the thrill of cascading down to a tunnel below even the lake. Memories were jolted as he watched more plumbing lines flash by. He could hear Dark whooping behind him, seeming unaware of the reason for their descent.

Finally, Harry felt the pipe leveling out and he was spat out of the tunnel mouth to land on both stone and the skeletons of mice and rats.

"Well, well," Dark said as he exited the chute, "this is the first time my underground tours have produced an audience, alive or dead."

Harry frowned. This guy was acting as if this was just another quick trip into the sewers. They didn't know what to expect.

A small _whoosh_ erupted behind him, and when he turned around he was facing Daisuke instead of Dark, whose clothes dwarfed him. He was a really tiny guy! Dudley's newest sweaters could act as a dress almost to his shins!

Harry withdrew his wand. "_Lumos!_" The tip lighted and illumined, once again, the path he needed to follow.

"This way," he said, gesturing to Daisuke.

It was like de ja vu as he tread upon the skeletons that guided them to the basilisk's grave. For a while the two boys were quiet. Then Daisuke spoke up.

"Harry," he began, "what else did you do in Godric's Hollow?"

Harry almost fell with the effect of this surprise question.

"W-What do you mean?" he asked, not quite containing his stammer.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," Daisuke apologized, "but I just thought that you might not go back home just to look for Horcruxes."

Harry blinked. His red-haired companion perceived more than Harry gave him credit for.

_I guess that's what comes with being a Phantom Thief._

"Well," Harry said, "you were right. The real reason I went…was so I could visit my parents' graves."

Daisuke's face revealed no emotion, but his eyes were wondering.

"They were in the shade of a tree, side by side. It was summer, so there weren't many leaves on their graves. Lily Evans Potter—Beloved Mother, Wife, and Sister'…. Whose beloved sister? She was resented."

He was cut off by the discovery of a large rock wall with a hole at the top. He scaled up the wall and squeezed himself through. Daisuke followed.

"James Cletus Potter—Beloved Father, Husband, and Friend…that one is more truthful. 'Sister' on my mum's grave should be 'Friend': her friends cared more for her than her sister ever did."

Harry hardly paid attention to the snake-encrested pillars. He had trod these winding halls before, and what had lied in wait at the end was an experience he would never forget.

Daisuke stared ahead at Harry's back as he pondered what his guide had just divulged. For an orphaned teenager to say what Harry had said was to know bitter anger and loathing.

_Daisuke_, Dark said, _you know that's just a drop in the ocean compared with some of the things _we've _seen._

_It isn't a competition, Dark._

Daisuke observed the towering columns that surrounded them. Each of them was imbued with magic to keep the passage supported, but he could detect nothing else special.

After a rime Harry came to a stop and Daisuke avoided bumping into him by a hair. They stood before a circular door with yet another snake engraved on it.

Daisuke heard Harry hissing and spitting in that snake language Minerva had called Parseltongue. When it stopped the snake's eyes glistened emerald and the entrance swung open, creaking loudly.

Before him lay the Chamber of Secrets. Daisuke's eyes widened in awe as he laid sight on an enormous statue that towered to the chamber ceiling.

_What a work of art!_ Dark muttered in awe. _I wonder how much it's worth. It's time for me to take over, Daisuke._

Behind him, Harry heard a _whoosh!_ and knew Daisuke had transformed yet again.

"This is it," Harry said.

"Yeah," Dark said.

"There is _one_ hidden place that the basilisk stayed in when Voldemort didn't call on him. I don't think Voldemort ever went in there, though."

"We can't rule out any possibility."

Dark came from behind Harry and walked the length of the chamber and came to a stop at the end. He crouched down to inspect the giant serpent.

"This is it," he said. It was not a question, just a simple expression of fact. He fingered the hole in the basilisk's head, where Gryffindor's sword had pierced the roof of his mouth. "There's a fang missing."

Again, this was just a statement, but Dark's eyes lingered on Harry inquiringly.

"One of its fangs went into my arm when I killed it," Harry said, massaging the arm where there was no wound.

Dark surveyed the Chamber of Secrets, a look of lax concentration on his face.

"This way," he said suddenly pointing to the left of the statue of Salazar Slytherin.

There was no opening there, but Harry's surprise was very slight. He remembered the cave where Voldemort had once terrorized his fellow orphans. He followed to where Dark had pointed and his illumined wand tip fell on blank wall, slimy with water and sewage. Dark was running his hands along it gently, muttering under his breath.

"This is a well-designed concealment spell," Dark said. After a moment writing written by some strange light emerged seeming from nowhere. More than a simple spark of familiarity sparked inside Harry.

"I know this," he said. "You need a blood offering to get in."

"I've got that covered," Dark said, and he slipped a small dagger from his pants pocket. "I've always got one on me in case of emergencies," he said, seeing the shocked look on Harry's face.

_What kind of emergencies would a Phantom Thief need a dagger for?_ Harry wondered.

To Harry's surprise, instead of cutting his own arm, Dark went to the basilisk once again and cut along the roof of its mouth. Coming back over the thief ran his finger along the blunt side of the blade and smoothed some of the snake's blood on the wall.

"We might as well save ourselves some trouble," Dark said, "and use something that's already dead."

Harry secretly agreed and led the way through the opening that had just appeared in the wall.

If Voldemort's first greeting for trespassers had seemed familiar the sight that now met his eyes certainly was not. The cavern was completely empty, and the only thing in sight was the rocky, slimy enclosure. There was no dais, no sign of anything other than this eerie antechamber.

With a big _bang!_ the rock wall closed behind them, trapping the two in an underground, rocky prison. It was then that Harry started to feel anxious. When he looked at Dark, though, he found a surface of cool calmness.

"Don't worry," the thief said, "I've gotten out of worse scrapes than this."

Harry believed him, but he couldn't imagine how he had done it. Sure, the Japanese police were looking for him, and probably the English, too. They were quite easy to escape, but if Dark was a Phantom Thief he must have more formidable adversaries than the police.

"Where did the snake come from when Voldy summoned it to kill you five years ago?" Dark asked.

Harry thought a moment, trying to recall. Then…

"The mouth of the statue."

That moment Dark began scaling up the rocks. His agility surprised Harry, but then the boy wondered _why_ he was surprised. Daisuke must have gone through rigorous training to prepare for the day when Dark would return. For them this was most likely just a warm-up for them.

"Hey," Dark called, "I found a tunnel up here!"

Harry pointed his wand above his head and uttered a spell that would take him almost fifty feet in the air. When he reached the top of the rock wall Dark was leaning against the tunnel with his arms crossed, waiting for Harry.

Leading the way Harry tread carefully. He was now in unfamiliar territory, and if he knew Voldemort some immensely taxing obstacle awaited him and dark at the tunnel's mouth. They walked for what felt like half an hour before an eerie glow began penetrating the darkness along with Harry's glowing lightball. It grew stronger as they walked along, until they eventually came to an immense cavern almost the size of the cave he and Dumbledore had seen.

The eerie glow was actually luminescent red smoke that drifted all around them. There was no end to it, as far as he could tell. In fact it seemed more like fog from hell than smoke.

"I don't recognize this," Harry said. "Hermione would know, though."

"Yeah, well, too bad she ain't here."

"I wouldn't want her to be."

"And why would that be?"

Harry groaned.

"She was Petrified by the basilisk five years ago, just as she had figured out that's what it was."

"Ah."

Harry continued to stare at the smoke-fog perplexedly. In a way it reminded him of an enchantment in the maze during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. The world had seemingly turned lopsided, but it had been only an illusion. Perhaps something similar had been employed here.

As he tried to take a step forward Dark put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I'll go first; there's evil magic at work here," he said.

"Really? I had _no_ idea," Harry retorted, annoyed, but he stepped aside nonetheless.

Dark stepped in and was immediately lost to sight.


	10. Within

Daisuke was at the front of Azumano Middle School waiting for Riku. He smiled cheerfully, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. All of a sudden, he felt a dull pain on the back of his head.

"Daiiiisukeeeeee!" came a familiar voice.

"Uh, g-good morning, Takeshi," Daisuke stuttered, turning around and greeting his reporter friend Takeshi Saehara.

"Don't you 'uh, g-good morning' _me_, Daisuke Niwa!" Takeshi exclaimed. "Fess up! Tell me all about it!"

"Tell you all about what?"

"What else would I want to know about, stupid?!?! Tell me the details of your date with Riku!"

At this statement Daisuke knew something was amiss. The last date he and Riku had gone on was at Azumano Joyland, and _that_ had been a complete fiasco!

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

Takeshi looked annoyed, like a second grader just would not accept that two and two were four.

"All right," he said, "I'll let you go _this_ time, but _next_ time you won't be so lucky."

With that the empty-handed reporter trumped off.

"Daisuke-kuuuuuuuuun!"

Daisuke felt warm, familiar arms around him and held them softly.

"Riku," he whispered softly, "good morning."

"Who are you calling Riku?"

Daisuke spun around, appalled at the thought of who it really was.

Risa stood with arms outstretched, a look of confusion on her face. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, but he remembered that she wasn't the one he loved.

"Risa!" he exclaimed. "W-What are you doing?"

At first Risa looked perplexed. Then her expression was replaced with one of anger.

"Oh, so it's all fine and dandy when you're kissing me in the trees, but you don't want to get serious when I hug you in public? You're just looking for thrills, right? Riku isn't satisfying you, _is_ she?"

Daisuke's head swum. _He_ had kissed _Risa_? That _could not have happened!_

"I-I don't know what you're talking about Risa."

Risa _harrumphed_ and stomped off through the front doors. Daisuke watched her, puzzled. Something was not right here, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Daisuke?"

This time he turned and met Riku, his girlfriend. He was glad to see her. However, things didn't look as if she felt the same.

"Is it true, Daisuke?"

"Is what true?"

Riku's lower lip trembled and her eyes glistened with tears.

"I was right," she said while attempting to restrain her tears. "You're dating _me_ because Risa _won't_. Well, it looks like she will now, so I guess I'll leave you two alone."

"Riku, wait!" Daisuke called as she ran past him.

Daisuke was crushed, crushed so hard he felt like he was going mad. He _loved_ Riku, and he _knew_ Riku still loved _him_.

Then something caught his eye: something red. When he turned to look at it it started drifting away, away from the school. He knew, somehow, that he needed to follow it, but he didn't know why. Plus he needed to make amends with Riku. He was too distraught to let himself think clearly.

_Daisuke_, said a voice, _follow the red smoke!_

Daisuke started; he had never heard this voice before, and it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. He didn't know whether to trust it, but it sounded quite urgent, insistent. So he followed the "red smoke," as the voice had deemed it.

It drifted further and further away from the school and towards the park. Finally it came to a stop at the top of a tree. Daisuke had no idea how he would be able to scale it, it was so tall. The lowest branch was almost seven feet above him.

_Give yourself up to me._ There came the voice again. _It's the only way._

"What do you mean?" Daisuke asked. "How do I know if I can trust you?"

_Have you forgotten me that easily?_

"Forgotten? What are you talking about? I haven't forgotten anything!"

_Surrender yourself to me. It's the only way to return to truth and reality._

Truth? Reality? Daisuke didn't understand what this stranger was saying, but they sounded sincere.

"Okay," Daisuke said, "go ahead and do what you need to."

Daisuke thought he felt the stranger smirk, but he didn't have a chance to register that thought because he suddenly felt himself being dominated by some unknown being. Dark hair clouded his vision and he knew he was growing taller. His uniform became smaller, making his pants look like capris.

"It's my turn, now."

Daisuke hadn't spoken, but he somehow knew that this second party was speaking through his mouth. He felt his body take one large leap and land on the lowest branch, then start climbing from there. This guy was amazing.

As they were climbing Daisuke started seeing fuzzy, vague images in his head. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't manage to make them clearer. He tried to send a message to the person who now possessed his body, asking him who he was.

_Try to remember_, came the answer. _I've always been a part of you. You won't easily forget me._

Part of him? Daisuke didn't understand a _word_ of what this guy was saying. His mom had never mentioned anything like this, nor had his father and grandfather. His life was just like anyone else's.

As the man continued to climb some of the images in Daisuke's had began retaining some sharpness. He perceived situations of danger and love both. A mysterious figure clothed in black soared across the moon. A girl kidnapped by some enemy and worried about by her friends and family. A boy fell through the mirror with a young woman guiding him, helping him take back something important.

_We're almost at the top._

The stranger's thoughts called him back to what was happening. To his surprise they had reached the top branches of the tree, and the red smoke was a few feet out of arm's reach. That was when one image cleared and Daisuke realized who this stranger was. It was Dark, the Phantom Thief who had disappeared from Japan for almost forty years. Dark was inside him!

With that one connection all his memories came back in a flood. Krad, Satoshi, Riku and Risa, Friedert, Toto Argentine, he remembered it all, yet he wondered how he could ever have forgotten.

_Daisuke, brace yourself._

Dark had now reached the red smoke and was extending his hand to put it through. It was fire scorching his skin, searing his flesh, but he put in more of his arm. The pain wrapped around it, making him want to cry out though he knew nobody would hear him. Dark took one deep breath and plunged himself in the redness.

Flames whipped around his body, but they burned no longer. The pain had been an illusion. Looking at his arm Dark saw unmarked skin. At his left a bright light appeared, seeming to guide him to where he needed to go next. Dark put out his foot as if to take a step and felt himself moving toward it. It grew brighter and brighter till he thought he might actually go blind, and then it was gone.

Suddenly he felt himself splitting apart. He yelled in excruciating pain waiting for it to stop. He felt part of himself leaving, and all that remained was a blank emptiness. Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. When he opened his eyes he saw Daisuke.

Daisuke couldn't believe what he was seeing. Sure, when he had first changed to Dark he had seen his reflection in the mirror. He knew what Dark looked like. This, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He and Dark both had two separate bodies. He had never heard of anything exactly like this happening before, but something _similar_ had occurred before. That had been when Dark was sealed in a mirror, but Toto had helped him retrieve the feathers of Dark's memories to get him back. That was one of the emptiest times he had ever had.

Dark was gaping at him with the same look of horror Daisuke knew was on his face.

"I-Is this part of that guy's spell?" Daisuke asked.

"There's no doubt about it," Dark replied, "but I can't understand how.

"M-Maybe if we try merging back into one…"

Daisuke reached out his hand at the same time as Dark and they interlocked fingers, concentrating on coming back into a single body. They stayed like this for sever minutes. Then Dark spoke.

"Daisuke?"

"Hmm?"

"This does _not_ feel right at _all_."

They both quickly let go of the other's hand and stood apart, looking the other way, embarrassed.

"W-What do we do now?" Daisuke asked. "Should we try to get back?"

"I don't know what would happen if we tried," Dark said. "Would we burn to a crisp? Would we come out like we are now? I just don't know."

Daisuke was silent. Then the silence was replaced by a yell as he felt himself be pulled away from Dark and something scaly wrap around his body.

"DAAAAARRRK!" Daisuke cried, reaching for Dark against his bonds.

Dark reacted instantly, turning around to see what had happened. He came face to face with a humongous snake.

"What're we gonna do?" Daisuke demanded, starting to get flustered.

"Don't panic," Dark said in an attempt to soothe him.

"IT'S A LITTLE TOO LATE FOR _THAT_, DARK!"

Dark's fuse was short right now, because he didn't think that magic would affect the huge serpent.

"_Silence, mortals!_"

Dark was startled to find that it was the snake (which on closer inspection turned out to be a cobra) that had spoken and that he could understand it.

"Okay, I know Volde-guy's from this herpetorium or whatever," Dark said, "but why doesn't he find himself an _original_ familiar?"

"_Silence, human_," it said, "_or my fangs will find your neck._"

In any other situation Dark would start mouthing off, but Daisuke was in that thing's coils.

"LET HIM GO!" Dark yelled, running toward the serpent.

As quickly as Dark could blink, the cobra lashed out at him, fangs bared. Dark barely dodged in time, barely escaped that mortal blow.

"_Stay away, boy_," the snake spat dangerously, "_or this one will die before your very eyes._" It squeezed Daisuke tighter in its coils, and Daisuke yelled in pain.

Dark ground his teeth in frustration. He knew that none of his tricks and deceptions would work here. He had to tread carefully: Daisuke's life depended on it.

"_Listen closely, mortal,_" the cobra hissed. "_If you ever want to see this whelp alive again you will do as I say. There is something that I need._"

Dark grunted. He would pay anything to get Daisuke back, but what was this bastard's price?

"_There is a seal in this prison. It binds me here unable to break free and make the journey to the Netherworld. If you destroy this seal I will restore the boy to you unharmed._"

"If I do this," Dark asked, "will you do something else for us?"

The snake's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "_What?_"

"There's something _we're_ looking for, too. We don't know what it looks like, only that it's an extremely powerful Dark object. If we free you will you help us find it?"

The serpent's eyes narrowed even more. Daisuke looked from it to Dark and back again. Dark kept his face composed, waiting as patiently as he could.

"_Yessss,_" the snake said, "_I supposse that'sssss fair. You have yoursssself a deal._"

"Thank you," Dark said stiffly. "Do you know where this seal is?"

"_All I know,_" the cobra said, "_is that it is out there…among the flame._"

"Among the flame? You mean what we just came in from?"

"_Indeed. You mussssst go back._"

"What will happen when I do?"

"_I don't know, but you will be ssssssafe._"

_I have no choice but to trust him_, Dark thought, looking at Daisuke.

With a visible effort Dark turned from Daisuke and his captor and lunged back the way he had come.

--- ---

Harry twiddled his wand in both hands, growing impatient. Dark had been gone for almost fifteen minutes and still hadn't given any sign of coming out as of yet. Twice he thought he had heard something hiss among the mist, but he dismissed the idea from his mind. However, a few minutes after he thought he heard the second hiss he heard a raspy voice. This time he was absolutely certain he hadn't imagined it.

_What the bloody hell does Dark think he's doing in there?_ he wondered. _I'm going in._

Willing himself to move his feet, Harry raised his wand in the combative position and leaped into the smoke.

--- ---

It was pitch dark outside, and Harry found himself standing on a dark street in front of a vaguely familiar house. Lights were turned on inside and a great bustle inside as if the residents were in a great hurry.

A cold shiver ran down his back. Someone was approaching him from behind, and his instincts screamed for him to hide. He leaped behind a prickly bush and watched while he hid.

A single hooded and cloaked man loomed toward the house. That was all he appeared to be, but Harry felt he should know who this was. The figure strolled through the house's front gate and drew something from within his robes. Harry couldn't see what it was, but he knew that this man meant trouble.

The figure was at the door now. When he tried it and was denied entry he made a violent movement with his arm, a flash of blue light nearly blinded his spectator, and the door blasted apart.

"Lily," a man inside shouted, "take Harry and run! I'll hold him off, just go!"

Harry trembled, feeling that he should know what was happening, but it was only a vague sensation. The man inside was still yelling desperately to the one named Lily, assuring her that he would hold off their assailant as long as he could. Harry felt the compulsion to go in and help his father.

_My father?_ Harry thought. It had been an inquiring thought, but the vague memory of this house began to solidify somewhat. _My father_, he told himself again. The remembrance became more distinct. _My father._ The repressed haze could be trapped no longer, and it all flowed into his mind in a rush. _Dad!_

Harry knew where he was now and what was going on. This was his parents' house in Godric's Hollow on the night Voldemort came. He had half a mind to run in there and protect his parents. The other half knew that there was nothing he could do and that his was just an illusion. The question unanswered was how to waver.

Then Harry saw it: a drifting wisp of red smoke, hovering at the gate as if waiting for him to follow. He knew this had to be what would guide him back to reality. He had very little regret for abandoning the fight: he knew it wasn't real.

As he came forward the wisp of smoke, instead of turning away from the gate, drifted toward the open doorway. Harry followed, reluctant as he was.

In the front hall lay his father, sprawled face-down on the floor. James' wand lay beneath an open hand. No scar or scratch marked him that Harry could see. Soon he would hear what he heard whenever the dementors approached.

As if on cue a woman's screams punctured the air.

"Please, please, take me instead! Have me, but leave Harry!"

"Stand aside, filthy Mudblood," Harry heard Voldemort spit.

"Please, not Harry! _Anything_, but Harry!"

Without warning vomit rose in Harry's throat and he got sick. He knew what came next.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry wanted to hear no more. He could not stand it; this was far worse that being near a dementor, much worse than simply hearing it happen.

Then there was a flash of red light, and the body was gone, the house was gone, it was all gone except the memory. The memory of the entire incident was still there.

All around him flame erupted, yet his skin was not seared. On the contrary it was quite cool. The red smoke was still there, almost completely camouflaged with the collage of red, orange, and yellow. It continued to move, so Harry kept tailing it.

He thought he caught a glimpse of something dark, but it was so momentary that Harry doubted. Then he was in a dark place, and he was not alone.

"Dark?"

It was indeed the Phantom Thief. The only problem was he seemed particularly shaken up about something.

"Potter," he said, turning around, "there's been a change of plans."


	11. Invasion

Listening as patiently as he could, Harry heard Dark recount some story about a snake giving Dark a physical body and taking Daisuke captive. Now they had to find the seal that held the snake imprisoned here in order to get Daisuke back alive. In return the serpent would help them find the Horcrux.

Harry didn't mention that he had heard hissing while he was outside or that Dark must be a Parselmouth. Dark seemed to distressed without Harry contributing irrelevant facts. Right now they had to focus on getting Daisuke, and that meant finding and destroying the seal.

"And he didn't give any hint at all about what the seal was?" Harry asked, just to get the record straight.

"No, he didn't. The only help he gave was that it was 'among the flame.'"

Harry was silent. He knew what Dark meant: they had to face Voldemort's enchantment again, but he was prepared. Surely nothing could be worse that witnessing his parents' deaths firsthand.

"Ready to go back?" he asked, looking at Dark meaningfully.

Dark glared at Daisuke's captor's prison no doubt thinking of Daisuke himself. He nodded.

"Let's do it."

- -

Dark sat at the High Table in the Great Hall, Harry at the Gryffindor Table with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. To Dark's left sat Hagrid, eating eggs, bacon, and biscuits. To Dark's right sat Hawkins, gorging herself on toast and steak and kidney pie. Dark noticed that the woman's stomach _must_ be some kind of black hole, because she ate enough for two men at every meal and never got fat. It was a desirable trait.

Harry held Ginny's hand in his own as another of Ron and Hermione's arguments flowed in one ear and out the other. They didn't pay attention to the brawl, just smiled at each other out of the corners of their eyes.

"Oy, Harry, what d'you think?"

Harry snapped to attention. Ron and Hermione were glaring at each other fiercely, the old flame of argument rekindled once again.

"Er…um…er…"

"Don't you go dragging Harry into this Ronald," Hermione snapped.

Harry was relieved. He had no idea what they were arguing about and wanted to steer clear of their debates whatever the topic.

"Oh, bugger, Ron," Ginny sighed exasperatedly, "you two are going out, so why can't you argue a little _less_?"

"Shut up, Ginny," Ron retorted, ears turning red.

"Don't go telling _me_ to shut up," Ginny snapped right back. "Just because you're my brother doesn't mean I won't hex you."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Ginny grinned maliciously. "Try me!" she threatened.

Harry suppressed a laugh. Ginny had been among the strongest hex casters in the D.A. and he had seen the result of her infamously strong Bat Bogey Hex. He wouldn't put it past her to curse her own brother out of mere aggravation.

Now it came to his attention that people throughout the Great Hall were conversing in urgent whispers and referring to the bewitched ceiling. He craned his neck to see what had everyone in a muddle. The sky, which had previously bee a normal blue-gray, was being abruptly inhabited by ominous-looking clouds. No weather-working magic had been discovered as far as he knew; still, he couldn't believe this phenomenon pure coincidence.

As if in answer to his thoughts the clouds began to swirl and form several spirals. After a brief moment they dissipated and the sky cleared. Harry recognized that formation and knew that they were all in grave danger.

Dark and the other professors had noticed this, too. Professor McGonagall stood up at her seat and spoke so everyone could hear her announcement.

"Attention, students!" she called firmly. "We have a Code B situation! Proceed as we have practiced!"

Harry drew a blank on the meaning behind the headmistress' words, but his body now acted on autopilot. He followed the stream of Gryffindors being ushered away by Ron and Hermione. He held on tightly to Ginny's hand, hardly noticing the first through third years being shimmied away to their respective common rooms. They fourth through seventh years and the teachers formed ranks in the entrance hall.

Hopefully, none of the intruders knew of the secret passages into the castle, but Harry recalled a vague memory of Professor McGonagall assigning guards to the entrances that remained unblocked, and another misty recollection revealed that both of the Vanishing Cabinets employed in the last invasion had been destroyed.

Harry vaguely remembered his two new teachers and wondered where they had been positioned: Professor Dark and Professor Hawkins. Various teachers and seventh years composed the front ranks. The centaur Firenze had a longbow and arrow posed ready to fire and a whole quiver secured to his back. Harry drew his wand and pointed it squarely at the great oak doors. They all waited for what felt like an eternity; arms grew sore, but none dared lower their wands for fear that the invaders would burst in the next second. He was not an exception, and he quickly ran inventory on all the spells, hexes, and curses he had ever learned. Only a handful could possibly be effective against the Death Eaters armed with the Unforgivable Curses.

A bang…Harry brought his mind back to the present. The castle doors were being mutilated in the attackers' attempts to gain entry by force. Another bang…the curses being flung against the entrance were powerful, but Hogwarts was not protected simply by intelligent design. A third blow…the doors would soon be opened, the onslaught begun….How many among the party would be familiar to him? Would Draco Malfoy be there, or Snape, or Wormtail? Might Voldemort himself be leading the troops? Or perhaps Bellatrix Lestrange? The doors burst open and a sickening stench met everyone's nostrils.

There were witches and wizards, all right, but they had invited friends to their little surprise party. Staggering, distorted bodies lunged through to meet the first rank: the Inferi.

"_PYROMENTI!!!_"

The roar was deafening, but the spell was blinding. Great bursts of flame erupted from the many wand tips. The reanimated corpses caught afire and seemed to flail about, but more arrived to take their place. The spell was cast again, but there seemed to be no end to them.

Harry lost all track of time while battling the Inferi. He could tell an hour from a minute from a second. There was only the flame and the sting of burning flesh burning his nose. Eventually the Inferi seemed to disappear, only to be replaced by large trolls. The trolls, as usual, wielded gigantic clubs with spikes at the striking end. Their death-like stench was suffocating, as well, but when one's mind is set on living it can withstand anything that doesn't leave a scar.

The trolls, instead of coming afoot, rode in on large creatures with sharp-looking horns. Harry recognized them from _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_: they were graphorns, and as he remembered they were very aggressive and difficult to kill. If the trolls were riding these it just meant more monsters to dispose of.

Harry aimed his spells at their eyes; he also recalled that graphorn skin was as tough as a dragon's, and one of a dragon's only weak spots was its eyes. He used Stunning Spells, Disarming Spells, and almost any other spell he thought useful. Most were ineffective for the most part, but he discovered that _Impedimenta_ slowed their charge for a few moments, so he continued flinging that spell at the vicious steeds.

At one point the graphorns were finished and the trolls were charging afoot. Trolls Harry could deal with: he remembered Quirell's troll from his first year. He employed Ron's tactic now hundredfold. Other times he simply Stunned them and they fell unconscious. Soon the trolls were taken care of. Harry's scar prickled and grew to sharp jolts: whatever came next was the central attack force.

A bone-chilling cold swept over Harry and filled him to his morrow.

_Oh, no!_ Harry thought. He knew this feeling, could recognize it anywhere.

_"No. We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly."_

_"Severus….Severus…please…"_

_"_Avada Kedavra!"

_"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them—I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my own inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so…_no!_"_

_"Kill me then. Kill me like you killed him, you coward—"_

_"DON'T—CALL ME COWARD!"_

Harry was very nearly drowned in white fog as a swarm of dementors flooded in and one immediately singled him out.

_No,_ he told himself, _think of something happy!_

He concentrated hard on one of the few happy things in his life: Ginny. He imagined simply being with her, enjoying the sensation of her touch, the warmth of her skin, the feel of her lips against his….

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_"

The silver stag erupted from his want tip and seemed to catch the dementor with its antlers, forcing it off, then proceeding to do the same for others. Harry vaguely caught sight of a wolf, leopard, lion, eagle, tiger, all pearly white, all fighting the dementors.

Another threat accompanied the dementors. Masked and hooded Death Eaters prowled among their fellow fighters, throwing off formidable hexes and curses. One that was shorter with a familiar pointy chin approached him directly, shoving away anyone in his path be they friend or foe.

"Hello, Potter," he muttered, removing his mask. Draco Malfoy leered at him momentarily before making his move.

"_Crucio!_"

Harry felt unbearable pain, yet it was unlike other Death Eaters' Torture Curses. It didn't hold as much malevolent hate or as much enjoyment at causing pain. Draco's heart was not completely behind it. Then the pain was gone, and Harry utilized this opening.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Draco's wand flew from his hand and landed somewhere among the chaos. Draco's face twisted in fear and hatred, but instead of running he stood his ground firmly, glaring defiant daggers and Harry.

Harry pointed his wand firmly and Malfoy's chest. Finally the one who brought on Dumbledore's death was in front of him. He could now serve justice, but what other than death could suit a traitor such as him?

Flickering at the edge of his vision was something red and insubstantial. He knew for a fact that it was not one of the burning piles of Inferi corpses, so he turned his head to see what it was. Red smoke hovered in one spot, not moving. He turned back to Malfoy. He could not doubt that the phenomenon was significant, but Malfoy's punishment came first. Still, the occurrence tugged at him.

"Why don't you strike the final blow, Potter?"

_Levicorupus!_

Draco hung there as if suspended by his ankles, screaming bloody murder.

"You _will_ get yours, Malfoy," he snarled and took off running toward the smoke, leaving the turncoat to hang there. He was on top of the smoke, then everything around him popped out of existence. The battle in the entrance hall disappeared to be replaced with red flames.

Harry was shocked. He had conceived many variations of a battle taking place at Hogwarts, but none had ever been quite so vivid. And he would not have expected Malfoy to be there, and he had never considered trolls and graphorns.

He looked around. Dark was nowhere to be seen at the moment, and the seal on the snake's prison was hidden somewhere where Harry was now. There was nothing for it but to stand there and wait.

He did not know how long he waited there like a sitting duck. Voldemort's enchantment was beyond his comprehension. There was no telling whether time passed differently in this place. Harry found himself wondering where Voldemort had acquired the knowledge for such a working of magic. Shaking his head vigorously, he pushed that train of thought from his mind. He wanted as little to do with his parents' murderer as was allowed. No matter which way he put it Voldemort was always a carrying influence in his life. The absence of his parents and his presence in the Dursley household helped him truly appreciate the friends and amiable acquaintances in his life. Voldemort's many attempts on his life helped him realize that practically anything that was once considered harmless could come back and bite you in the ass. However, the most important thing he might have learned in his life is that when you feel real love your life was tolerable despite its many twists and turns.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw a dark void materialize out of the flames. A figure stepped through, and the void disappeared. As he had suspected the figure was Dark, and he looked as cool and collected as usual. Harry stood and made his way over to the Phantom Thief.

"Dark," he said, "now that we're here where should we start looking?"

Dark inspected the flaming environment. Harry knew he was sensing for magic objects, so he kept quiet so that Dark could keep his full concentration. Dark frowned in irritation at one point and Harry had to ask why.

"There seems to be _two_ objects of magical power here. The problem is that there's no way to tell which one is the seal on the prison."

"Couldn't we just pick one and go back if it isn't the seal?"

"We don't know if the other one is the Horcrux or some kind of trap. We wouldn't want to get ourselves killed because of ignorance, would we?"

Harry supposed Dark had a point; the way he expressed it was slightly annoying, though. With this Harry took out his wand and laid it flat on his palm.

"_Point Me_," he commanded. The stick of wood twirled on his hand for a minute, then came to an abrupt stop. It pointed toward him, indicating north.

"North is that way," Harry informed the thief, pointing his thumb behind him. "There's a spell I want to try, but I don't know what'll happen if I do."

"What is it?"

"It's the Summoning Spell. I could try Summoning the seal here, and we could deal with it then."

Dark considered him. You couldn't read much from his look unless you knew him well. Daisuke would think Dark impressed with Harry's supposed lack of fear.

"Go for it," he finally said. "I could care less _how_ we get it so long as we _get_ it."

Harry raised his wand and concentrated on getting the seal even though he had no idea what it looked like.

"_Accio Seal!_"

Harry was still, concentrating on getting the seal all the way to his hand. Stretched out during their waiting period was an anxious silence. So eerie was it that Harry barely noticed that sweat rolled down his face. It blurred his vision, but he refused to wipe it away.

Finally after what seemed like infinity they heard something _whoosh!_ towards them. They looked up and a dark disc came in sight. Neither of them knew what it was, but they did not care: the seal was in their grasp and the Horcrux and Daisuke would be, too, soon enough.

When it was within arm's reach Harry stretched up and snatched it out of the air. Almost as soon as his fingers closed around it he felt the object's immense weight begin to pull his hand down. Dark caught it with both hands and inspected it.

"There's an inscription on it. '_Leynrf ovsil hert revs._' Why must you wizards _always_ put you spells and junk in dead languages?"

"Let's destroy it," Harry grumbled. He did not think he could withstand Dark's rants on wizards' ways and ancient languages. "Put it down."

Dark did so and stepped back. He couldn't know what Harry was thinking, but he knew a curse of some sort was about to be utilized.

Harry pointed his wand at the disc. "_Reducto!_"

A red jet of light issued from his wand and hit the seal. Instead of shattering it, though, it was absorbed. The black hunk of something rattled and jerked violently for a moment then was still.

"GET DOWN!" Dark suddenly yelled and dragged Harry to the ground with him. Right at that moment Harry's curse reflected, meeting air where his head had been a mere moment before. He gulped audibly, dispelling the sudden tension in his throat.

"Thanks for that," he croaked when his voice back functioned again.

"Don't mention it. Obviously regular spells don't work on it, so what do we do?"

They both were quiet. It was a fine predicament they were in, and Daisuke's life was on the line. Then Harry had an idea, one so simple he was frustrated that he hadn't thought of it before.

"Why don't we take it to the snake? I'll bet anything that he'll know what to do with it."

Dark surveyed him with an arched eyebrow. Harry found himself getting agitated with his tantalizingly calculating stare. It never occurred to him that Dark might feel the same about Harry's gaze.

"Fine," the Phantom Thief finally said. "We might as well, seeing as we have to go back for Daisuke anyway."

Harry could practically _taste_ the concern and hatred in Dark's tone. Again, he had never considered that he spoke about Voldemort and his Death Eaters the same way. He could only recognize vague empathy for the man.

He picked up the seal—it was heavier than anything he recalled carrying—and offered his hand to Dark, who still lay on the ground.

"Let's go." Dark took the hand and stood.

"Follow me."

- -

"_Snake," _Dark bellowed, "_we have your seal!_"

Loud hissing came to their ears, and the great serpent slithered out. Much to Dark's surprise Daisuke came out right alongside. He was wrapped in car-crushing coils but walking of his own will. Not a hint of fear painted his face, just slight wonder.

Behind him Dark could feel Harry's questioning stare on his back. Obviously the boy had been expecting a more dangerous scene: so had Dark.

"_Aaaaaaahhhhhh_," the snake hissed. "_It is indeed the seal._"

"_Yes, it is_." Harry was speaking to the snake directly. "_We do not know how to destroy it._"

The reptile turned its unblinking yellow gaze on the boy. Those eyes were cold and calculating. Its tongue came out to smell the air.

"_You…boy…you remind me of he who imprisoned me._"

"_He murdered my parents_," Harry divulged, "_then tried to kill me. I am told he unintentionally passed on a few abilities to me—including that which let's me talk with you_."

The cold-blooded animal was silent, tongue flickering in and out.

"_Yes…you are the same, yet different. You smell of hate._"

"_We don't know how to destroy the seal_," Harry persisted. "_Perhaps you, being its captive, will understand it better than us._"

The snake—Dark and Harry both thought separately to call him Hiss—slithered forward to inspect the spelled disc. His unblinking eyes watched as if unconcerned by its magic.

"_It repels normal spells_," Dark said, "_and I don't have the proper tools to destroy it even if I did know how._"

"Is that what I was held here for?"

Dark, Harry, and Hiss all started. Dark twitched a little; Harry jumped a few inches off the ground; Hiss twisted around abruptly. They had forgotten the redhead was there, wrapped up in present affairs as they were.

"Yes," Harry said in English. "It's the seal that binds Hiss here. We're trying to figure out how we'll break it. Dispelling it means getting the Horcrux for Dumbledore."

"_I believe I know the thing to do_," Hiss said. "_It needs some of my venom. Drop it lest you too be struck._"

Harry hastily set the black metal object on the ground and stepped back. He didn't much fancy being bitten by a venomous snake in the Chamber of Secrets again. He watched Hiss prepare to strike.

"Wait," Daisuke interrupted. "What about me and Dark?"

Harry relayed the message to Hiss, who nodded.

"_Of course…we have an agreement._"

Dark and Daisuke went to each other, and each put one hand on the other's shoulder. Nothing obvious announced the magic allowing their fusion. Dark was simply there one second and gone the next. Daisuke stooped over himself slightly with a hand hovering over his heart, eyes wide.

Harry strode over to join Daisuke. He didn't dare depreciate the strength behind Hiss' strike.

Hiss merely stared at the power behind his imprisonment. Then he lashed out unexpectedly, gleaming fangs bared. The force of the impact caused the seal to crack and finally break in two. Immediately the reptile's form seemed to be comprised of fog.

"_What about the Horcrux?_" Harry demanded as he noticed the cobra begin to dissolve. As if in answer the black space turned to the cave in which the red smoke had once been. Except it wasn't there any more. It was slowly clearing away, rising to the roof of the cave.

Out of the dispelling mist fell a heavy gold object. Harry walked over, crouched down, and took it in his hand. He recognized this from the house elf's memory during his lessons with Dumbledore: Helga Hufflepuff's ancient chalice.

"Harry…"

Harry turned. It was Dark who now stood before him looking slightly the worse for wear.

"…we got what we came for. Now let's get out of here."


	12. Recovered Memories

It was the day after they had retrieved the chalice, and Daisuke and Dark were still processing each other's memories from when they were separated.

It being a Saturday Daisuke was sitting on the lakeside with Wiz in his lap. He watched the mirror-like surface of the water, reflecting on Dark's memories from explaining the situation to Harry to stepping out of the illusion.

- -

Dark sat at the High Table in the Great Hall, Harry at the Gryffindor Table with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. To Dark's left sat Hagrid, eating eggs, bacon, and biscuits. To Dark's right sat Hawkins, gorging herself on toast and steak and kidney pie. Dark noticed that the woman's stomach _must_ be some kind of black hole because she ate enough for two men at every meal and never got fat. It was a desirable trait.

Hawkins turned to him and met his gaze with her own.

"You got a problem, Dark? Or are you just being a pervert like all the older girls say you are?"

Dark chuckled amusedly. The girl was sharp, not to mention resourceful.

"Tell you what, don't answer that." She made a hand gesture as if to swat a pesky fly. "Instead why don't you tell me what your first impression of the wizarding world reveals?"

"Well, Hawkins," Dark said, "I've been here for a couple months, so it can hardly be called my _first_ impression, can it?"

Hawkins' lips thinned somewhat.

"I will tell you, though," he resumed, "that I believe the excessive use of some dead language needless…."

Dark was in a good mood today, and this conversation boosted it. Hawkins had asked him this question once a month for the past two months. Dark found many personal and impersonal flaws in regular wizardry—not that it could be called regular—that did not exist in the form of magic he had employed for thousands of years. Attempting to elaborate all these flaws all at the same time would take forever, so he specified a different triviality every time Hawkins inquired.

"I'm almost positive," she said, "that the dead language in question is Latin. I had some high school foreign language education before I attended a school of witchcraft."

"Do you happen to have any Japanese in you?"

Hawkins nodded, eyes narrowed.

"Anata maboroshi."

"That's just Tarzan Japanese: You mystic, ooh-ooh, ah-ah, EEEEE!"

The monkey-like screech was not loud enough to attract the attention of the whole High Table; Minerva and Hagrid, though, were curious about the source of the abrupt noise.

Hawkins didn't apologize, just turned back to her elephantine repast. Dark did the same. Hagrid leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Tha' little American sprout is a wiry one. Haven' met anyone quite so amusin' before, meself."

"Neither have I," Dark admitted.

Suddenly he sensed a disturbance in the air surrounding Hogwarts. It seemed to coalesce into long swirling spirals. He observed the ceiling which reflected the sky. Almost exactly as he had imagined it happening, miniature tornadoes seemed to chiefly occupy the sky. He nudged Hawkins, jerked his head at the ceiling, and indicated her to inform Minerva.

When the headmistress received the message, she nodded and stood. "Attention, students!" she called firmly. "We have a Code B situation! Proceed as we have practiced!"

Dark was caught in the tide of his body's actions. He and Hawkins rushed to the entrance hall outside before the great oak doors locked shut.

"Wiz," he yelled, "come here!"

In an instant the fluffy white fur ball was there, but then he became Dark's wings. Wiz grabbed Dark who held Hawkins close to him.

"Hang on! Go!"

Wiz tensed and flapped. He, Dark, and Hawkins soared to Hogwarts' battlements. Dark seemed to recall that their job was to weaken the attack force from above, but taking Hawkins to the appointed position was almost as much as he could do.

From their height Dark could see what he and Hawkins were up against. People staggering as if injured poured through the boar-topped gates followed by cavalry trolls mounted on titanic ram-like beasts. Following the trolls and their steeds were unusually tall figures wrapped completely in black: dementors, if Dark wasn't mistaken. He could feel vaguely the depressing effect that was their power.

"Can you cast fire spells?"

Hawkins' voice snapped him out of his reverie. Her wand was poised, ready to release any number of deadly spells on the small army. She watched him quizzically waiting for a reply.

"If I have enough energy then yeah, maybe," Dark finally said.

"Good. You see the front of the attack force? Those are the Inferi, corpses reanimated by magic. They're vulnerable to fire and bright light, which is why it's irregular for them to attack during the daytime. The spell to use is Pyromenti."

"I'll remember that."

They waited for the squadron to come into range. When Hawkins became concerned that they might be seen, she motioned for Dark to join her in lying on her stomach.

When they were less than half a mile away, she said, "Get ready."

She made her move when the enemies came to the foot of the stairs leading to the doors.

"_Pyromenti!_"

Fire erupted from her wand and met its target. The smell of burning flesh came sharp to their noses, but they attempted to ignore it. Jets of red and green light shot at their position, chipping away pieces of stone. Other witches and wizards were shooting streams of water at the flames that hadn't caught the Inferi.

Dark currently focused on the dementors. They posed possibly the most promin-

ent threat. He conjured to his memory the first time he had kissed Riku—granted it had been to silence her, but it was still considered a kiss. He recited the words.

"_Expecto Patronum!_"

Gray mist erupted from his hands. The memory was not strong enough to repel the enormous horde of sadness-inducing monsters. He couldn't think of anything happier than that, and the doors were almost open. He averted his attention to the trolls and their mounts. He decided to use the Stunning Spell on them: he didn't think the trolls more than terribly retarded.

"_Stupefy!_" he cried somewhat wearily.

A rocket of red tore through the air and thankfully had enough force to knock one troll unconscious. With the limp weight of its master on its back, the troll's steed began stamping and snorting and wheeling in circles. The creatures behind it grew restless attempting to bypass the rampaging beast. Finally green light enveloped it and it collapsed. There was no doubt that it was dead.

"Bastards," he heard Hawkins hiss.

Right at that moment a particularly potent Stunning Spell hit Hawkins in the head. He heard her indistinctly mutter, "_Shit!_" before blacking out.

"HAWKINS!"

Dark turned to the woman and started shaking her by her shoulders. Her head lolled back and forth but she refused to wake.

"HAWKINS, WAKE UP, DAMN YOU! DAMN IT, I CAN'T DO THIS ALONE! WAKE UP! DAMMIT!"

The doors were open, but Dark hardly noticed.

Something red flickered ahead of him. He looked up startled. A patch of ruby-red smoke drifted in one place level with his eyes. It tormented him with its unan-

nounced arrival. He knew it was important but he didn't know how; neither was he eager to abandon Hawkins. Moreover it exerted some kind of warning that if he ignored it now he would never see it again. He couldn't ignore the chance of finding something to help bring an end to this war. He stood and jumped.

- -

Dark watched the lake surface through a listless Daisuke. It was truly much like a mirror reflecting the sunlight. Dark sifted through Daisuke's memories with Hiss after he had left.

- -

Dark disappeared.

Daisuke felt the coils constricting his body movement loosen. He looked at the cobra anxiously. It watched the spot where Dark had once been, tongue flickering. Then, quite suddenly, it began to shrink and change shape. The excess skin on its head disappeared, and it grew arms and legs. Clothes materialized out of nowhere to cover it. Its eyes alone remained the same as they changed proportion to fit in its face.

When the metamorphosis was complete a strangely-garbed boy with snake-like eyes stood before Daisuke. He looked to be no more than eleven or twelve years old, yet he was lean and muscly, his features chiseled to the face of one who has seen much hardship. His hair was a blackish-brown. His garments revealed how old he must be: he wore loose black slacks and an overcoat.

"Do not be alarmed," the snake-boy said. "I merely wish to speak with you." His voice had a slight Irish lilt to it.

Daisuke gulped. How did the boy expect him not to be alarmed? He had turned from a giant cobra to a young boy in a matter of seconds!

"Who are you?" he asked shyly.

"Who I am matters not, but since you asked I will answer. Many know me as Slathin, and I am not human."

"Um, not to be rude, but I could kinda tell."

Slathin's chuckle greatly resembled the sound of a rattlesnake's shaking tail. "Yes, I suppose you_ did_ notice. I'm a snake spirit. I can take the shape of any serpent I choose. Perhaps that is how I find myself here."

"How did you meet Voldemort? The one who captured you?"

"I suppose you could say we met through_ magical_ means," Slathin replied after a moment. "You see, he was searching for means to become immortal. When I first met him I could sense spiritual incompletion in him. I knew he must have murdered someone, for only that deed is sufficient to do that much damage to one's soul.

"He summoned me using an ancient spell and offered me a chance to live longer than any of my race. He explained that in exchange all I had to do was guard the part of his dismembered soul, which he had sealed within a glorious gold chalice.

"Of course I was intrigued by the idea of living longer than the oldest snake spirit. I accepted his offer; in secret, though, he forged a strong seal to prevent me from leaving."

"It sounds like you and he had a few things in common at the time," said Daisuke tentatively. He didn't want to anger Slathin unintentionally.

Slathin turned aside his gaze embarrassedly. "Yes, we did, didn't we?

"Anyway, I guarded his soul for a couple of decades while I was unknowingly held prisoner. By that time, though, the prospect of an extended life grew dreary; imagine my hatred toward—Voldemort, did you say his name was?—when I discovered I couldn't leave."

Daisuke could picture Slathin thrashing in snake form, lethal and dangerous to any who dared approach.

"So I was forced to maintain my vigil for the next approximate twenty years. At that time I felt the wizard's piece of soul emit a strange aura for several days then return to normal. At the end of fifty years it happened again. Then it happened once more in the last year. Each time it was as if the soul bit was trying to recuperate from some major event that weakened it."

Daisuke's memory stirred with these bits of information. If Slathin's memory was accurate, then the first time the Horcrux had acted strangely was when Voldemort had failed in killing Harry Potter. Also, Harry had mentioned that his second year at Hogwarts had marked the bicentennial of the series of attacks on Muggle-borns; Daisuke had learned from Professor Dumbledore that a Horcrux in the shape of a diary had been involved. And Dumbledore and Harry had eradicated a Horcrux before the professor died. The Horcrux here had been healing from the destruction of other Horcruxes!

"You look surprised, Daisuke."

Slathin's voice brought Daisuke back to the present.

"I'm fine," Daisuke assured the spirit. "You just provided another piece to a rather complex puzzle. Wait a minute…how do you know my name?"

"I heard Dark say it in alarm earlier. Speaking of Dark, I have a favor to ask of you: is it possible for you not to tell him about this conversation?"

"I'm sorry, but I doubt it. When we fuse together again he's gonna want to know what happened when he left. When he's determined to know something I can't stop him from probing my mind to find it."

Slathin sighed. "Very well. Now let us make polite conversation while we wait for Mr. Dark to return."

"I hope you realize he'll be really mad to say the least when he figures out he worried over me needlessly."

"What will he do?" Slathin teased playfully. "By the time he does figure it out I'll be gone from this place."

"He'll probably cuss me out in every language he knows."

Slathin chuckled again. "An interesting man, your Dark."

- -

Everything afterwards was simply small-talk.

_Damn straight I'm gonna cuss you out, Daisuke_, Dark bantered.

_I love you, too, Dark_, Daisuke said with a smile.

**A/N: Yeah, it was a short chapter, so sue me. Don't tell me you weren't in the _least bit interested_ in what Dark and Daisuke experienced while I focused on Harry. (Pause for effect) That's what I thought, you hypocrites! ;-b**


	13. A Look of Longing

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, everybody! This is the Christmas chapter, and I was having some trouble finding some content without having everybody look for Horcruxes and junk. It's a friggin' HOLIDAY, people!**

November faded into December, the weather grew steadily chillier. Soon thick layers of snow obscured the ground. Footprints made one day was filled in the next. Herbology oftentimes found itself cancelled, Professor Sprout scuttling back and forth between the castle and the greenhouses with her arms loaded with scarves and other protective gear.

The Heads of Houses began coming around with the sign-up list for people staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays. When Riku found that Daisuke had signed up she had to demand why.

"Don't you want to see your family? It's been forever since you've seen them."

Daisuke laughed it off nervously. "They're all coming here. Besides, I'm having trouble in a few of my classes."

Riku harrumphed. It wasn't the point she was trying to make.

Daisuke wasn't being truthful about his reason for staying. True, the Niwas were visiting for Christmas, but his grades weren't as poor as he expressed. The truth of it was that he might be needed by Albus and Minerva, and Japan was a long way away.

Until the holidays officially commenced, though, the teachers intended to put their students' noses to the grindstone. The homework piled up tremendously, but Daisuke considered himself lucky: he had been told of the fifth through seventh years' expectations and workload from the teachers. Dark was also expected not to slack off on the doling out of work.

_How'm I ever gonna keep up with this stuff?_ he often demanded roughly.

_Ever consider writing it down and keeping it in your office?_ was always the answer.

Daisuke had heard many things about Quidditch, but he had never actually seen a game. The first-years found this hard to believe and insisted that he come to the last game before the holidays, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. After almost a week of pleading, Daisuke was forced to submit to their demands.

The morning of the match brought tension to the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Daisuke noticed the team members eating nothing off their plates. He went over to Ginny Weasley, the Captain, and sat next to her. Her face looked deathly pale.

"This is my first Quidditch match," he said. Ginny started. Obviously she hadn't heard him approach. Daisuke smiled warmly in an attempt to cheer her up. "I'm sure you'll do fantastic."

The captain smiled weakly and nodded. Then she stood, beckoned the team to follow her, and exited the castle. Daisuke stared after her for a minute and soon returned to Riku and his breakfast.

--- ---

Daisuke waved his scarlet-and-gold pennant, watching the Quidditch pitch anxiously. So much angst and expectation surrounded him that it had soon become contagious. Behind him a roaring lion banner waved in the wind with the words "Weasley is Our Queen" scripted in fanciful letters. Apparently a seventh-year by the name Dean Thomas had drawn it, and Daisuke had to admit that he was very talented.

Another Gryffindor seventh-year next to him held a pair of complex-looking binoculars in his dragon-hide gloves. He had a pudgy, fat face and nervous-looking eyes.

"What are those for?" Daisuke asked.

The boy looked at him blankly for a minute, and then he answered. "Is this your first Quidditch match?"

Daisuke nodded.

"Ah, I thought so. The players can get high in the clouds where we can't see them."

"I'm Niwa Daisuke." He extended his own gloved hand.

"Neville Longbottom." Neville took the offered hand and shook it meagerly. They didn't have longer to talk, though, because abruptly louder cheers announced the arrival of the teams, Gryffindor in scarlet, Hufflepuff in canary yellow. A dreamy voice permeated the stands.

"Hello, everyone. This is Luna Lovegood here with your match commentation. Captains Weasley and Macmillan shake hands and mount their brooms. There's the whistle, and they're off, Chaser Demelza Robins of Gryffindor in possession of the Quaffle. Robins passes to Weasley speeding toward the goal posts. She shoots—oh, _no_, intercepted by Keeper Lawrence Cuff. And it's Hufflepuff in possession, Chaser Smith planning to overtake Gryffindor Keeper Kentley, it's a shame last year's Keeper Ronald Weasley isn't here, he was funny…"

Daisuke started. He hadn't expected to hear that name in a Quidditch commentary.

"Ooh, look, it looks like Gryffindor Seeker Edith Jennings seen something. Could it be the Snitch she's after? She's putting on a burst of speed."

One of the players had indeed sped up. She streaked towards the Gryffindor end of the pitch. Her face held a set, determined expression as the wind whipped her robes around her. Then, unexpectedly, she veered off course and returned to circling in the sky.

"Well, that was uncalled-for Bludger work from Hufflepuff Beater Macmillan. Either way the Snitch is lost—oh, and it seems that Hufflepuff has scored a goal, so it's ten-zero to them."

Events followed this course for the next quarter-hour or so, at which point the two teams were tied ninety-ninety. There were a few times in which everyone thought the game would end because one of the Seekers almost caught the evasive Golden Snitch. They were all false alarms, however, and so the game continued.

At one point Daisuke thought he had glimpsed a shock of fire-red hair in the stands. When he looked back it had gone. Dark either couldn't or wouldn't say anything on the subject, not even that Daisuke's eyes might be tricking him. He merely sat back and kept quiet.

Cheers suddenly erupted from the stands. Neville was yelling and jumping ecstatically next to Daisuke. When Daisuke looked back, he found that the Gryffindor team was flying in a cluster around Edith Jennings, who held something with fluttering wings in her hand. Daisuke saw gold reflecting off it in the winter sunlight.

--- ---

When they returned to Gryffindor Tower, Daisuke and Riku found the common room in an absolute uproar. The students were cheering raucously while swigging down large gulps of something called butterbeer. The same banner that had waved in the stands now hung above the staircases. Also much to their surprise several people were growing yellow feathers with a popping sound and then molting after several minutes. On these occasions he heard the onlookers yell something about "Canary Creams" and "Fred and George."

Daisuke spotted Ginny in an armchair by the fireplace with a half-drained bottle of butterbeer in her hand. She stared almost longingly at the flickering flames, seemingly oblivious to the celebration commencing all around her.

Daisuke kissed Riku softly on the cheek—his heart went mad and he almost transformed—and went to join the sixth-year. He sat on a pouf close by and smiled encouragingly at her. She didn't respond.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself," he said.

She detached her gaze from the fire to look at him. "It's not the same as it used to be."

"How so?" Daisuke inquired.

Ginny hesitated before answering. "There used to be someone that was always the most popular Quidditch player since his first year. But he never let it go to his head. If anything he despised too much attention."

_Harry_, Daisuke thought, _she's talking about Harry._ He wasn't supposed to know that, though, so he feigned cluelessness.

"Who was he?"

Again Ginny didn't answer for a minute. "My boyfriend."

Daisuke expected Dark to gloat, boasting that he had known _all along_ that there was something between Ron's sister and Harry. The Phantom Thief was silent as his title suggested, though, so Daisuke continued speaking.

"He must have been a good player, then, huh?"

Ginny snorted. "That's an understatement. He was the youngest Quidditch player in a century and the best Gryffindor Seeker since my brother Charlie."

Daisuke was amazed. He had heard rumors of the sort, but he had never expected Harry to be this renowned a Quidditch player. If what Ginny said now was anywhere _near_ true, then the Gryffindor team was nowhere _close_ to its previous zenith.

"I guess you're right," he said. "It's not the same at all."

-- --

On Christmas Day Daisuke woke to find Wiz crouching on his chest and some unexpected visitors at his bedside.

"Good _morning_, Daisuke, sweetiiiiie!"

The boy was so startled he almost tore down the scarlet curtains of his four-poster.

"MOM!" he yelled as he caught himself. "What are you _doing_ in here?"

"I couldn't wait till _noon_ to see my _only son_, now, _could_ I?" Emiko demanded lovingly. Before Daisuke could prepare himself, she pulled him abruptly into her tight embrace and planted a large kiss on his forehead. Daisuke tried to speak against her, but all that came out was a loud muffle. When Emiko finally released him, Kosuke placed a hand on his son's head.

"How's wizard school, Daisuke?" he asked.

Daisuke laughed lightly. "Um, it's fine, I guess."

Daisuke's grandfather gave him a level look through his bushy gray eyebrows.

"Are they teaching Dark to use magic without exhausting the both of you?" he asked.

Daisuke gulped silently. "I-I don't think they know how. I mean, they've never heard of anyone like him, so, uh, it stands to reason why."

"Don't make him stutter like that, Dad," Emiko snapped gently at her father. "I think I might die from TCS."

"TCS?"

Emiko beamed. "Too-Cute Syndrome."

Daisuke grumbled. This was Emiko Niwa, eccentric mother of the first Phantom Thief since her father. She and he had trained him since early childhood so that he could inherit the birthright of the Niwa family the day he turned fourteen: the ability to turn into Dark. Emiko, being a woman and without they Y chromosome, did not inherit that trait and so throughout life had looked for a man to help her bear a son. That had been when she met Kosuke in college.

Daisuke took more after his father Kosuke in both personality and physical likeness. They had spiky hair, were clumsy, and possessed gentle natures. Also, they had both lost their white ribbons on a Valentine's Day. They kept their tempers under strict control and so rarely got fired up enough to stay _really_ angry for long. They were just raised too well.

Daisuke noticed that someone was missing.

"Where's Towa? Didn't she come with you?"

Emiko giggled. "She did. She decided to have some and try finding all the common rooms and secret passageways. A place _this_ huge has to have a _lot_."

Daisuke smiled. That would be just the kind of thing Towa would do. Her powers allowed her to locate lost things, people, and places. She had helped him find Dark when Satoshi Hiwatari of the Hikari clan had sealed him in a magical mirror.

"Well don't just sit there like a slug!" Emiko commanded. "Get up, get dressed, and show us your school!"

Daisuke moved sluggishly indeed. He had been woken startlingly, true, but he was still fog-brained at the moment.

Since it was the beginning of the holidays, he donned a wool sweater, a pair of jeans, and tennis shoes. Emiko was disappointed because she had hoped to see her little Daisuke in wizard uniform. Kosuke insisted that she not embarrass him too much on her first visit.

When they descended to the common room, the found Towa reclined on one of the little sofas in front of the fire. Also, the many smells of Christmas dinner wafted through all the tight crevices.

"To-To," Emiko said brightly, "it seems you didn't have much trouble finding the common rooms."

"The only problem," To-To admitted, "was getting the wards around them lifted, but it only took a few seconds."

"Do you mean figuring out the passwords?" Daisuke asked tiredly; he still hadn't woken up entirely.

"That's what that Fat Lady out front wanted. They need to strengthen their defenses and not just the common room guards, either. Circumstances being what they are you'd think the headmistress would raise stronger defenses."

Daisuke said nothing. Towa was an expert at her type of magic, and if she though that the defenses weren't quite up to scratch, then she was probably right. He, after all, was still struggling with simple spells.

"Come on, Daisuke," Kosuke said, interrupting Daisuke's thoughts, "show us Hogwarts."

The first thing they did was eat breakfast in the Great Hall. There Daisuke found Ginny eating with some other sixth-year girls. He introduced her to his family. When he came to Towa he presented her as "Aunt Towa."

"Now, now, Daisuke," she admonished with a wagging finger, "it's Aunt _To-To_. _Towa_ makes me feel so…so _old_." She shivered.

"You _cannot_ be older than _twenty-five_," Ginny said wondrously. "You look so _young_."

"I _am_ young. I'm only ni—"

"_Nine years older then me_," Daisuke interrupted. Towa was about to say ninety-eight, which was in fact her real age. Ginny couldn't know that, or anyone else. "She's twenty-three, right, Aunt Towa?"

Catching on, Towa nodded. "Yes, yes, that's right, I'm twenty-three. And it's Aunt _To-To_, Daisuke, don't forget."

Daisuke laughed anxiously. "Yeah, r-right, Aunt T-To-To."

He didn't know how he would be able to live through the rest of the holidays…or through the rest of the day, for that matter.

After breakfast they wandered through the corridors, and Daisuke introduced his eccentric family to his teachers. The professors commented plentifully on Daisuke's progress in school, especially the older ones. When they ran into Hawkins coming up from the dungeon, though, she seemed unwilling to talk except for one sentence.

"He could do better, but then, who couldn't?"

Hawkins was dressed inappropriately for the weather. She wore an Evanescence T-shirt and sleeveless denim vest with blue jeans and black inch-high boots. Her face was moderately decked with just the right amount of make-up and a thin layer of green eyeliner. She was quite stunning, and it was no problem to figure out that she was visiting the village of Hogsmeade, though what she intended to do there was a mystery.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Hawkins-san," Kosuke called after her retreating back. She waved over her shoulder absentmindedly.

"She's a very interesting woman," Emiko mutter consideringly.

"Indeed, she is," Grandpa concurred.

After all the teachers had been met, the Niwas donned their coats and winter gear and left for a stroll on the grounds. The snow had fallen very thickly and now blinded them. They passed by the greenhouses and a large lonely tree with branches that resembled fingers and fists. Daisuke explained that this was the Whomping Willow and hit back anything that hit it; or at least, that's what the older students said.

"I'm tired," Grandpa groaned. "I need to rest these creaking brittle bones."

He hobbled over to the enchanted tree and sprawled on a protruding knot. He tilted his head slightly and leaned against the sturdy trunk. Next to him was a hole in the tangle of roots. Looking into it his eyes widened somewhat.

"There's a tunnel down there."

Towa, eager to see another of Hogwarts' secrets, rushed over to join Grandpa. She peered in excitedly for a moment and looked at the others.

"Grandpa's right," she said. "Oh, goody-goody! I was wondering if I'd soon find the continuations of those collapsed tunnels! Let's see what secrets lie at the end of _this_ one!" With that exclamation she disappeared underground.

Daisuke withdrew his wand, which he had tucked up his sleeve, and lit it. Emiko and Kosuke beamed with pride and they and Grandpa followed him down.

The light of Daisuke's wand tip illuminated the dark, dank walls of the passage. Soil squelched beneath their feet as they trod on. They walked for maybe ten minutes before the ground began to rise. Daisuke remained wary. He came to a twist in the tunnel and came out in a room.

They were all shocked enough at finding a secret passage. Now they found that it came out at a decrepit building.

The room was the dustiest, dirtiest room they had ever set eyes on. The wallpaper was peeling almost everywhere. The furniture had been heavily mistreated, every piece broken somewhere. No winter sunlight poured through the boarded-up windows.

Part of the floor was not as dusty as the rest: it resembled a wide stripe, as if something had been dragged through this house not too many years ago. Daisuke followed the not-so-dusty trail through a door to the right and up a nearby staircase. On the next landing the path led through yet another door.

The door opened onto what was once a bedroom. The stripe ended at a four-poster bed with dusty hangings. Though the makeshift trail had ended, there were other signs of recent but not so recent activity. The faint traces of footprints and places where bodies had lain, lingered still.

"The vibrations of this room are warped."

Daisuke started. He had forgotten that his family was with him. Towa was the one who had spoken. Her voice was sot, her eyes wandering.

"What do you mean?" Kosuke asked.

"The house itself is filled with pain. But this room…something happened in this room a few years ago…anger…sadness…happiness….The vibrations, the ripples you might say, have clashed. The memories are too different for them to coexist harmoniously."

Daisuke began to wonder what had happened here not all that long before.

"I wonder where this place actually is," Grandpa wondered aloud.

Minutes later, the Niwas ascended from the tunnel and returned to the castle in time for Christmas dinner, only to be shocked by the number of diners. All of the professors except Hawkins were present at one table in the middle of the room. Daisuke recognized the centaur, Firenze, the professor who co-taught Divination with the mysterious Professor Trelawney who rarely left her tower. With the teachers sat Ginny, a Hufflepuff third-year, two Ravenclaws, and a Gryffindor second-year.

The Niwas' entrance seemed to startle all the students except Ginny, who spared them a fleeting glance before returning to her turkey. Most simply stared with wide eyes. The teachers merely nodded in acknowledgement of their presence.

The family sat and grabbed for everything in reach. They had not eaten since breakfast, and their trip to that strange house had left them famished. Turkey, ham, pork, mashed potatoes, broiled potatoes, chicken pot pie, and a whole assortment of other delectable foods were piled on their plates. They all tucked in, even Towa.

Eventually they noticed that wizard crackers lay on the table every few feet. Emiko and her father shared the first one. The resulting noise gave nearly all the Niwas heart attacks. The seated students burst into laughter at seeing their faces, and even a few of the staff allowed small smiles to cross their faces. Grandpa Niwa grumbled about he was too old for surprises, and shoved the veiled purple witch's hat over to his daughter, who squealed and donned it with zeal.

The plates filled with the remains of the main course cleaned at one point and were loaded with desserts. Ice cream, sherbet, chocolate mousse, cake, brownies, fudge, and Jell-O rich in sugar and carbs were popular with the younger diners and those adventurous older eaters. The table began to clear itself, and that's about when everyone began to disperse.

Ginny, the Niwas, and the second-year returned to the tower. Ginny gave the Fat Lady the password ("sherry") and they all entered.

"Daisukeeee," Emiko whispered slyly, "aren't you forgetting something?"

The boy thought hard for a moment. Then his face brightened as he realized that he had yet to give his family their Christmas presents.

"Yeah, wait just a minute," he implored as he turned to the boys' staircase. "I'll be right back."

He didn't see his mother's face twisted in confusion. All of his focus was on getting those wrapped presents that he had hidden under his bed. Upon retrieving them, he fled back downstairs and motioned for everybody to sit. He distributed the gifts accordingly to each person. In return he received one gift from the entire family.

He watched his family open their presents first. Emiko got a small piece of Daisuke's original artwork and a necklace. Kosuke held to his chest a photograph of him and Emiko from college and a book on the history of wizardry. Grandpa fondly fingered a hand-knit scarf and a book on Japanese art. To-To clutched a beautiful dress and stared admiringly at an eagle statuette.

Afterwards, however, Emiko fiercely scolded herself for thoughtlessly ignoring Daisuke. She ordered him to open his present. He slowly tugged at the laced ribbon and gently ripped the wrapping paper.

Opening the box he found a beautiful blue sapphire hanging from a leather thong. Despite its generally haggard appearance, Daisuke was awed by the quality of the stone.

"That's a very special pendant," Kosuke said.

"Yes," Emiko assented, "it's been passed down to every successor of the Niwa family."

"Wear it around your neck always," Grandpa said.

"It was made," To-To informed him, "as protection against most evil spells."

_I remember_, Dark said, _this being made long, long ago._

Daisuke smiled to himself not knowing what to say. He beamed at his family and slung the charm around his neck. His family beamed back at him.

Then a consistent tapping sound came faintly from the boys' dormitory. Daisuke went up to see what was what. An owl was hammering lightly against the window in a desperate attempt to enter. Daisuke hastily unlatched the window to admit the owl and quickly shut it again.

The bird swooped around his head impatiently. It finally landed among his spiky hair and dropped a small package which Daisuke caught. It was a small unadorned box with a label that read, _To Daisuke, From Harry_. He tore away the Spellotape and opened the package.

Something snapped at his fingers. Daisuke started in surprised and gave a slight yelp. That same thing began thrashing around inside. Daisuke risked a peek into the box and found a miniature dragon with green scales and a spike back and tail. He recognized the type by a description in one of his course books: this was a miniscule Hungarian Horntail. How Harry had come across this object Daisuke had no idea, but it was cool-looking all the same.

He removed the model carefully so those sharp-looking spikes wouldn't scratch him too much. That's when he found a note nestled in the bottom. Daisuke set the model on his bedside table, unfolded the message, and read.

_Dear Daisuke,_

_I hope the dragon hasn't burned this letter to ashes. Horntails can be pretty unpleasant. Merry Christmas! I hope you're enjoying the time with your family. I thought you might like this miniature. I've had it for a few years, and I was getting tired of it; so I decided someone else might appreciate it more than me. I hope you like it._

_Harry_

Daisuke glanced from the letter to the dragon. Harry was a pretty interesting guy. Somehow he had had a personal experience with one of the meanest-natured dragons in the world without being handicapped or having plastic surgery. Not many people could say that much about themselves without being a pathological liar.

He smiled and rushed downstairs. He showed his family the little dragon with slight enthusiasm.

"Extraordinary!" Grandpa gasped under his breath.

"How interesting," Kosuke muttered.

"How _cuuuuuute_!" Emiko and To-To squealed in delight. "Who gave it to you, Daisuke?" Emiko asked.

Daisuke glanced around the room and found that nobody was there.

"Harry," he told them.

This only succeeded in heightening their curiosity.

"Where did he get it?"

"Did he say who made it?"

Daisuke's head ached with all the questions his family asked him. When they finally quieted down he asked them if they would like to ask Harry themselves. All heads nodded in affirmative, so Daisuke led them to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They passed several ghosts along the way, not to mention a few teachers. It was past five o' clock and guard shifts needed to be maintained before curfew in case of an emergency.

They finally reached the classroom. Daisuke motioned his followers to, well, _follow_ him inside. Daisuke stole along the rows of desks and into Dark's once unused office.

Harry and Ron sat on the teacher's desk, sporting hand-knit sweaters and identical worn-out expressions. Boxes of candy and fudge surrounded them on the oak surface.

Harry was the first to acknowledge the Niwas' presence. He looked them up and down with a distant smile on his face. Finally, he spoke.

"Your family looks very interesting, Daisuke."

Ron looked up from a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from Hermione. On seeing the Niwa family he grimaced as he swallowed a bean.

"Hi, there," he said. "M'name's Ron Weasley."

The rest of the introductions commenced, and soon the Niwas were inquiring particulars about the boys' lives. Do you have a girlfriend? How many brothers and sisters do you have? What do you plan to do once you're out of school? Eventually, things calmed down enough for Harry to speak.

"You guys are exactly how Daisuke described you: interesting and full of surprises."

Daisuke recalled saying nothing so specific, so he supposed this had to be flattery on Harry's part. He had described the Niwas to the dot, though.

"I've got to say," Ron informed them, "that I've never seen anyone with hair as red as mine. Is it his natural hair color?"

"Of course it is!" Emiko practically shrieked. "And it looks so _cute_: like a _Troll_ doll!"

"Mom, d-don't say stuff like that," Daisuke stammered embarrassedly. His face almost turned as red as his hair.

Everyone but Ron, who knew nothing about Troll dolls, laughed at Emiko's motherly praise. Daisuke hid his face in embarrassment.

"It _is_ pretty cool, though," Harry commented. "It reminds me of my hair. It never does what I want it to."

_Yeah_, Dark said, _it looks like a friggin' thorn bush._

They continued to converse for the remainder of the evening. At times Daisuke was certain he saw Harry gaze longingly, sadly at his family. He didn't really mind it or blame him for it: from what he understood of Harry's situation, none of his father's family still lived and his Muggle cousins had cast him out at his latest birthday. Actually, he had seen Harry storm out fuming, but the Dursleys were probably glad to have him gone for good now.

Finally, it came time for them to return to Gryffindor Tower. Daisuke looked behind him as he left and saw the same expression on Harry's face.

--- ---

Harry watched the Niwas leave Dark's office almost sullenly. He envied Daisuke for his loving family. He remembered the Mirror of Erised from his first year of Hogwarts: all the wizard family had had never met, his parents among them. Looking back, he felt grateful for Professor Dumbledore's interference then. He knew that otherwise he would definitely gone mad and grown old simply staring at them all. It did not mean that he didn't want to see them again, though.

"Oy, Harry…"

Ron's voice snapped him back to the present.

"What?"

"You all right, mate?"

"Yeah, just fine."

Ron gave him a concerned, knowing glance before returning to his candy. Harry watched his friend with a pang: looking at him now made him think of Ginny.

_No_, he scolded himself, _there's no thinking of her, wanting the caress of her—oh, damn._

Harry rubbed his head in exasperation, ran his fingers through his wild hair. He couldn't wait until he could get back to hunting down Horcruxes, and for more reason than one.


	14. NOTICE! NOTICE! NOTICE!

To My Dedicated Readers:

To My Dedicated Readers:

You all may have noticed that I have not updated in over a year. Well, that is because of two things: after the last chapter, I experienced writer's block; and I've lost interest. But because enough people have expressed interest, I'm following a friend's suggestion and engaging a contest. There will be twelve more chapters for a total of 25. We will start with chapter fourteen and continue. I will submit the chapter that I think is the best and give the author full credit. When you e-mail your submissions, include your username and e-mail so I can credit you and e-mail you to congratulate you if your chapter is selected. For those who will compete, good luck! For those who won't but will watch the contest progress, thanks for your dedication! Let the contest begin!

Watergirl7742


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